Rancho Navarro
by MJRod
Summary: VII. Season 4.22: This season 4 finale finds Mano & Carmen returning to Casa Cueva, Rancho Navarro, and finally, the High Chaparral itself on the second part of their luna de miel (honeymoon). Old friends also return & Buck reunites with his own "Lady Fair," Charly Converse. Read & discover how it all turns out in VKS & MJRod's final episode of the season. Enjoy & please review!
1. Chapter 1

**Rancho Navarro**

by VKS & MJRod

 _In this season 4 finale, the action picks up after "La Luna de Miel," Mano & Carmen's honeymoon to Hermosillo. Old friends return; new friends emerge. And the ending offers a surprise befitting a season finale._

 **Rancho Navarro Chapter One: Leaving Hermosillo**

From beneath the shaded canopy of the carriage, Manolito Montoya peered out, his eyes scanning the horizon and stopping to rest upon the sweating back of Jorge, the Montoya vaquero driving the rig. Not one breeze, Mano thought as the buggy jostled and rumbled along the road from Hermosillo on its return to Rancho Montoya. He glanced to his right, noting Jorge's brother, Miguel, on horseback, riding alongside, a protective escort. Then Mano looked down and smiled at his new wife, Carmen de Navarro de Montoya, her coal black curls resting against his chest as she dozed, leaning against him. One of his arms enfolded her; his other arm rested against the open side window of the carriage. His brow glistened with perspiration, and he could imagine how uncomfortable Jorge must be, the sun blazing into his face. Sonora was, if anything, hot.

Carmen stirred, fitful, yet her eyes remained closed. Mano could not reach his pocket watch without disturbing her, but the sun showed ten o'clock. They should be home in two hours or so. Home. That thought still surprised him. But Rancho Montoya had become again his home. And his Uncle Domingo, if not quite like his father, was a welcome part of his life, a man who needed his help but asked very little of him. A man who got what he wanted by wits and guile. A gambler used to manipulating situations to his advantage. This was how Mano had found Carmen. Tío had arranged it all...nudging him rather than forcing him into her path. Ay, Tío. I owe you a lot, hombre, for this. Mano smiled. For her. They had been married less than two weeks, and each day, each hour, he loved her more. I do not deserve her, he thought again. This had become a recurring sentiment.

Such a pleasant luna de miel in Hermosillo it had been. What had Carmen said? "Marvelous." He touched the bandage over his left eye and laughed. Marvelous? They had been kidnapped and robbed. This woman should prove easy to please, he chuckled again, if this is her idea of marvelous. With satisfaction he recalled the astonished look on the gang ringleader's face as he, Manolito, had pulled the thief from his horse before the man could escape. Only he, Manolito, had risked pursuing the rogues who had held a dozen or more couples-guests who had attended the governor's ball-in a filthy warehouse where they had been relieved of their valuables, including his Carmen's jewelry. It had not been much of a risk really. The thief had underestimated the resolve of his quarry. Or at least one of them.

The truth was, the thief had rightly estimated the lack of resolve of the aristocratic class of Hermosillo who made up the bulk of the victims. No doubt he thought them all soft, Mano mused. So had Santa Anna thought the aristocracy soft...when the Polkos rebellion had sapped money and energy from the effort to fight the Norteamericanos in the Mexican American War, or whatever they called it now. Mano had been but a little boy then, but he remembered his father's outrage at the jellied backbones of the effete upper classes. Not so Don Sebastian de Montoya. His father, who defined the aristocracy, also defined courage and boldness. But then one does not carve out a living from the unforgiving desert if one lacks courage and boldness. Mira his brother in law, John Cannon. Mira his Papá. Mano knew he was considered an aristocrat but never would he be identified with inaction when his family was threatened.

This time it was his great grandmother's tiara that the thieves, who had the temerity to claim that their actions would benefit the poor, had tried to take. Oh no. He could not let that happen. So what if in reclaiming his family property, he also stopped the escape of the jefe of the banditos? A slick con artist...a confidence man who had wormed his way into the governor's ball. The man's name again? Valadez? Mano wondered if Tío Domingo knew this man. It would not be a surprise if he did. Tío, like his nephew, had sometimes walked on the dark side.

"Oh my husband, how long have I been asleep?" Carmen asked, stretching and moving from under his arm.

"An hour or so, mi preciosa. We have about two hours to go. Would you care for some water?" he offered her a sip from a canteen which she took with a smile.

"Gracias. And my love, how is your head? Does it still hurt?"

"No. I told you. It is nothing more than a scratch."

"I still cannot believe you pursued that bandito by yourself. Such a risk."

"Carmenita. you do not know your husband. I do not take foolish risks. I merely sought and found an opportunity. I acted. There was very little risk involved, querida."

"No one else stepped forward."

"They did after I had secured the man. Not until then did I need their assistance. They would have been in the way before. I was not sure any would come. This is why I called for you." Mano laughed. "I knew you would at least run out of the warehouse and hit him on the head."

"And so I would, but I am glad I did not have to do this thing. And the people were so grateful."

"I know, querida. Can you believe what they did for us?"

"It was generous. But given what you did, it was the least they could do."

"Still…" Mano smiled as he recalled the manager's comment when he had gone to check out and settle their bill at Hermosillo's Hotel Nacional, where they had stayed for their luna de miel.

"Señor Montoya, there is no charge. Your bill has been taken care of."

"What, Señor Garza? Por qué? What is this?"

"You have the gratitude of the governor and his guests that you helped. A grateful city. They would have held a special dinner for you both, with you the guest of honor, except that they knew it was your honeymoon and assumed you would rather have the time to yourselves."

"This is very generous."

"Not at all, Don Manolo. Not at all."

So he was now Don Manolo even in Hermosillo. Mano frowned at the title but reached into his wallet, peeling off a fifty peso note which he slipped to the manager. "Well, Señor Garza, you will accept this for your troubles, yes? The hotel has been exceptional: the room comfortable, and the service and food quite fine. We shall always have fond memories of this luna de miel." Garza had nodded and accepted the tip. He, unlike the wealthy benefactors who had paid the couple's bill, needed the money.

"Your carriage awaits, señor," Garza replied, indicating the buggy from Rancho Montoya parked by the curb. The doormen carried out two trunks, one of which they would ship to Rancho Navarro before leaving the city. Carmen had already wired the foreman of her family's rancho near Cajeme to expect the trunk in two days, and to expect the new Sr. & Sra. Montoya within a fortnight. The other, smaller trunk would come with them to Rancho Montoya. They had not intended to return to the rancho so soon, but circumstances being what they were, it seemed advisable. Mano turned again to Carmen.

"What do you have on the seat beside you, querida? Copies of the newspaper?"

"Yes, six of them from the Friday evening edition in Hermosillo. The headlines are about your heroics: 'Sonoran rancher foils kidnap and robbery scheme.' Allow me to read: 'Don Manolo de Montoya, of the Rancho Montoya….'" Mano stopped her with a sideways nod of the head and a wave of his right hand in a gesture of dismissal.

"I don't even know how that reporter discovered my name. I talked only to the policía. I gave no statements to the press. Ridiculous."

"Nevertheless, the whole city knows. I am taking a copy to give to Tío Domingo, and one for Victoria...and one for Mamá and Hector!"

"And the others?"

"I shall save them for the children we hope one day to have."

"It will be some time before these imagined children learn how to read, querida."

"I do not care. I want them to know of the bravery of their papá, although, if you do such a thing again, I will never forgive you," she said, her smile belying her tone, which she tried to make sober and firm.

"Well, they will forget about it soon enough in Hermosillo, and at least the news is confined there."

"Manolo, this was significant. The governor's guests robbed as they left the ball? Why, I am sure the news has preceded us to Mexico City. There is such a thing as the wire, you know. Reporters transmit stories with the telegraph."

"Ay Bendita," Mano groaned. Now his name would be a topic of conversation...the notoriety unwelcome, given the fact that Montoyas tended to attract attention and even enemies. "Wonderful. Not only does this Valadez know my name, but every criminal..." his voice trailed off. And some will get a huge laugh out of the idea that I assisted in the apprehension of a gang of cutthroats, he reflected. Well, it was done and he would do it again. "Carmen, Tío will probably not be as pleased as you might think, mi corazón. This draws unnecessary attention to the name of Montoya."

"Nonsense, mi vida! I cannot wait to show this to him!" she exclaimed while Mano rolled his eyes, surmising what his uncle's response would be. He smiled and kissed her, enjoying her excitement although he did not share it. Both husband and wife settled back in comfortable silence to watch the landscape shift from sandy coastal soil and grassy meadow to the higher elevations of Rancho Montoya, with its cloudless blue sky and its rocky outcroppings in the foothills of the mountains of Sonora. Within a few hours, the carriage rumbled past the large bronze lions marking the boundary of Casa Montoya and through the grand stucco arches of the hacienda courtyard.

 _VKS & MJRod pay tribute to the actors, creator, and writers of "The High Chaparral" with our season 4 continuation. We do claim the creation of Carmen, although we borrowed her name from a David Dortort script proposal. Delgado and the entirety of Rancho Navarro are our creations as well._


	2. Chapter 2

**Rancho Navarro Chapter Two: Old Friends and Relatives**

"Oh, how _interesting_ ," Domingo purred when Carmen-after kisses, handshakes, and embraces had been exchanged-thrust the newspaper into his hand as the three met in the patrón's book-filled study upon the newlyweds' return to Rancho Montoya. "I see. Many people simply enjoy their luna de miels, but you, my nephew, have been exceptionally busy."

"Tío, I had no choice," Mano admitted with a grimace.

"No. I see that you did not."

"I wish he had not resisted those evil men," Carmen said.

"Oh no, mi sobrina. He had to resist. Montoyas cannot be robbed with impunity," Domingo replied, turning to his nephew and adding, "It is only unfortunate that your feat of valor could not have been accomplished anonymously."

"I did not give my name to anyone except the policía, and in that, I had no choice."

"No, I suppose you did not. Still, most unfortunate." Domingo paused and blew a stream of smoke from his cigar while Mano shrugged his shoulders.

"This man, uncle, this Valadez...do you know him?"

"Yes, I do. A confidence man known to ply his trade in Mexico City. A gigolo of sorts. Older women he would seduce, then relieve of their jewels, silver, property. Few pressed charges. Embarrassment, you know." Mano shook his head to show he understood.

"I suppose he decided to try a fresh territory?" Mano suggested.

"Perhaps. Still," Domingo paused and glanced at his nephew. "Manolo, I am surprised this Valadez would have the connections, intelligence, even skill to pull off such a grand scheme. To waylay the guests of the governor and rob them? This took planning and forethought...of which he has the capability...but I wonder if he did not have a little, er, inside help. How did he manage an invitation to the ball at all? Clearly his job there was to mark the, forgive me, the pigeons. To indicate which couples should be robbed. Tell me, your invitation...was it longstanding? Were you expected at the ball?"

"No, the governor responded to a note I sent. He included us at the last minute."

"Ah, and did you stay late? I am wondering why you were targeted. I should have left you alone. You do not come across as one who cannot defend himself. I suspect Valadez saw something that tempted him."

"Oh, the tiara," Carmen, who had been silent, listening, replied.

"Yes, _your_ grandmother's tiara. Papá gave it to me when I was 21 for such a time as this," Mano smiled. "We have brought it from Hermosillo and will keep it in the vault here at the rancho," he added. "Our visits to Hermosillo will not be frequent, and Carmenita may wish to wear it."

"I remember that piece. From Spain, is it not? Surely that proved too great a temptation. Bad for the thieves, but good for the victims, eh? Still, Manolo, I should be careful if I were you. Someone was behind this plan and he may have connections and, now, great anger."

"Or she," Carmen offered.

"Or she," Domingo affirmed, blowing another long stream of smoke.

* * *

"Well, gentlemen, I shall go freshen up a bit and then perhaps we might have a light lunch? May I ask Pepe to provide something for us, uncle?" Carmen asked.

"Of course, my niece, this is your home. Ask whatever you wish."

"Gracias, Tío," she beamed, kissing him on the cheek, then spinning around to leave the study, first to locate the servant Pepe and then to head to the room she shared with Mano. Smiling, she glanced at her husband as she walked to the door. Mano watched her go, a small smile playing about his lips. Dios mío, how he loved her. His eyes followed her out the door.

"Nephew," Tío claimed his attention again. "You seem very...happy."

"Oh yes, Tío," Mano chuckled.

"Is she all you anticipated?"

"She is much, much more."

Domingo paused a moment, satisfied, then changed the subject. "I would not be too concerned about any residual effects from your adventure in Hermosillo. I shall make inquiries. Allow me to do this," he said. "I think it perhaps best you avoid Hermosillo and Mexico City for a time, nonetheless."

"Sí, estoy de acuerdo. Carmen and I intend to travel to Rancho Navarro anyway. We only came back to Rancho Montoya to check on our mares at Casa Cueva. And, as you understand, it seemed advisable to leave Hermosillo...for many reasons."

"Yes, wise indeed. As is your going to Rancho Navarro for the present."

Mano nodded in agreement. "We shall leave for Casa Cueva after our meal and proceed to Rancho Navarro within a few days. Con su permiso, may we borrow a carriage or buckboard? Carmen would like to ride, I am sure, but the journey does involve an overnight camp."

"Of course, nephew. You need not ask for these things. The possessions of Rancho Montoya are yours as well as mine."

And so are the problems, Mano thought, but replied, "Gracias, Tío," before heading to wash up before lunch. He paused at the door and turned again to his uncle.

"There is one thing more, Tío."

"Yes?" Domingo blew a stream of smoke.

"Toronado. I think it perhaps best if we remove him to Rancho Navarro. With Osito coming along and Diablo just north in Arizona, this will provide more distance. Better for the bloodlines. And Carmen owns some very fine Andalusian mares. Also, she has a most capable ranch manager who knows much about horses."

Domingo nodded in agreement, then turned to his desk where, Mano noticed a book of English Romantic poetry propped open and waiting. "Keats, Tío? Not Byron?" he asked, a question his uncle answered with a thin smile.

* * *

Perhaps they would not need the wagon or buckboard for the trip to Rancho Navarro, Mano reflected as he edged his way upstairs to clean up for lunch. They would make better time on horseback and they would need to camp only one night. Besides, their things had already been shipped to Cajeme from the stage and freight office in Hermosillo. Ah, that business in the freight office...now _that_ had surprised him.

"Buenas días," the short, balding clerk had said when Mano and Carmen walked into the office to arrange for the shipping of their goods. "What can I do for you?"

"We wish to arrange for the transport of a trunk to Cajeme on the stage."

"You will not be passengers?"

"No."

"The stage to Cajeme comes through every three days. Unfortunately, señor, it left yesterday morning. I will be happy to keep this trunk and send it on the first available coach, assuming there is room, but…"

"But?"

"Also there is a freight company which covers the same route on alternate days. In fact, any minute now I…." The clerk was interrupted as the front door banged open. In strode a slight figure in buckskin trousers, smacking a hat on a thigh and causing a whirl of dust to billow up before settling on the wood plank floor.

"Dadgum danged dust storms," hollered a voice, high pitched for a man. As the dust cleared, Carmen's eyes widened and Mano blinked, his jaw dropping at the sight of thick long blonde hair crowning a face, feminine yet smudged with trail dirt.

"Señorita Converse?" Mano asked in wonder. "Charly?" The slight figure squinted in his direction, then broke into a smile as wide as Tennessee. Pearly teeth gleamed and Carmen watched the woman saunter over, grab and pump Mano's hand, and pound him on the back.

"I'll be. If it ain't Man-o-lito Montoya! What in thunder are you doin' here Man-o?"

Carmen, eyes still wide, saw her husband wince a little at the woman's pronunciation of his name, but she smiled with pleasure at the wide grin he returned the unexpected newcomer. She watched as he next took the woman's hand and brought it toward him, brushing the soiled glove against his lips. "It is so good to see you, Señorita Charly." Then, turning to Carmen, Mano continued, eyes twinkling, "Charly, may I present my wife? La Señora Carmen de Montoya. Carmen, this is Señorita Charly Converse, an old friend of Buck's and mine."

"Waal now, not so _old_ , Mano," Charly laughed. "Pleased to meet you, Miz Montoya. Man-o, you got yourself a pretty wife. When the heck you git married? If I rememb…" then she stopped cold and turned again to look Carmen in the eye. "Miz Montoya, you got yourself a good man here."

"Yes, I know. Gracias. Encantada, señorita," Carmen smiled, extending her hand, which Charly grabbed and pumped up and down a few times, causing Carmen's eyes to blink and her mouth to open wider in confused delight.

"Encan...er, grass-shis to you, too, Miz Carmen."

The clerk watched as the three, standing in the middle of his office, chatted. Then he cleared his throat. "Ah, señor, this is the proprietor of the freight company I told you about."

"Oh, I see. Charly, you run freight to Cajeme?"

"Shore do. Ever week, Nogales to Hermosillo on down to Cajeme and Guaymas, then back up the coast to Kino an' back over here, then on up to Nogales an' start all over again," she explained. "More comes an' goes from Nogales to Hermosillo so I make that run double an' kinda make me a loop south."

"Bueno. Then perhaps we may have some business for you…" Mano began. His efforts proved futile. Not only did Charly agree to take their trunk but she refused to charge them, although he insisted.

"No. Not one dern peso, Man-o, after whut you an' Buck did fer me with Pardee coupla years back!" she exclaimed. "You jes keep your money."

"Pardee?" Carmen asked.

"I shall tell you later, mi corazón," Mano replied through tight lips in the singsong voice he used when he did not wish to discuss something.

"Yup. Pardee. Yore husband an' Buck an' the men from Mr. Cannon's ranch done helped me an' ol' Fargo out of a terrible jam. Took a lotta guts, what they done."

"I am sure it did," Carmen said, unsmiling. What manner of man had she married? Must he always risk his person?

"Señor Fargo, how is he?" Mano shifted the subject.

"Fargo's dead, Mano. Jes didn't wake up one mornin'. Bout a month ago. One o' the saddest days of my life," Charly said in a quiet voice.

"Oh, I am sorry," Mano replied. "Who helps you now with the freight?"

"Whoever I kin git. Don't know how reliable them coupla roughneck ragtag rounders out there'll be in a tight spot, but I gotta make time. Sittin' don't settle the bills, do it?"

"No, it does not," Carmen agreed. The trunk destined for Cajeme was soon marked and loaded onto Charly's wagon. They bid her farewell as she and the two rounders hauled out the packages to be delivered on this run. Charly wiped her brow with a shirtsleeve and called after them, as they prepared to climb again into the carriage.

"Hey, Mano? How is…" she paused. "How's Buck?"

"He is good, Charly."

"You tell him, uh," Charly stopped and bit her lip while Mano waited. "You tell him I said hello, y'hear?"

"Of course. Gracias, and buena suerte, Charly. Hasta luego!" Mano assured her as the Montoya carriage rumbled off, with Carmen and her husband waving goodbye.

 _VKS & MJRod pay tribute to the actors, creator, and writers of "The High Chaparral" with our season 4 continuation. We do claim the creation of Carmen, although we borrowed her name from a David Dortort script proposal. Delgado and the entirety of Rancho Navarro are our creations as well._


	3. Chapter 3

**Rancho Navarro Chapter Three: Casa Cueva**

The afternoon of their return to Rancho Montoya from their luna de miel, Mano and Carmen left the hacienda to ride to Casa Cueva at a gentle lope which allowed for conversation. The wind whipped through their hair-both pushed their hats back. He continued a topic begun at lunch.

"Dearest, I do think a buckboard would be easier for our journey to Rancho Navarro."

"Manolo, I am capable of riding long distances. I am not made out of glass and will not shatter should I sleep one night on the ground. As long as we have bedrolls and some food for the journey, I believe I will weather the storm," she arched an eyebrow, glancing at him with a smile so that he knew he was being teased. Mano tilted his head to look at her. Ay Bendita, so they would ride. Soon they found themselves under the broken arch of the tiny pueblo of Casa Cueva, guiding their horses to the livery stable where they dismounted. Roy Lauder, a sturdy young man in his early 20s, bounded out to meet them, shaking hands with Mano and giving Carmen a shy smile.

"Mano, how are you, amigo? Miz Carmen! We thought you was on your honeymoon. Whatcha doin' back here so soon?" Roy opened.

"Ah, well, Roy, we had many wonderful days in Hermosillo, but things transpired so that it seemed advisable to leave, and…" Mano began but Carmen cut him off.

"And, Roy, we remembered that the mares were about to foal!" We wanted to see the foals!" Carmen exclaimed, pulling off her gloves and smiling.

"Well, c'mon through then! Y'all are just in time. Bring your horses." Roy, beaming, led them to the barn where they saw a young woman, a sleeping infant strapped to her front, leaning over a full trough and filling water buckets.

"Roy, I cannot believe you are allowing your wife, a new mother, to do such work!" Mano exclaimed, laughing to himself as he recalled the many times his own sister had ordered him to fetch water. No longer, hermanita.

"Hola, Don Mano! Doña Carmen!" Teresa Lauder burst into a smile as she set down a brimming bucket and reached for the reins of their horses, leading the animals into two nearby unoccupied stalls before returning to greet her visitors. The baby stirred and whimpered, and Teresa shifted the weight of both infant and wrappings. "Perdoname, but I think she may be getting hungry," she said, excusing herself to head inside the humble adobe home she shared with her husband and her uncle, their old friend Vaquero, now alcalde of Casa Cueva.

* * *

Sunlight streamed into the cool darkness of the barn and their eyes had not quite adjusted when Mano detected movement near a back stall. He squinted, discerning the shapes of two men approaching. Carmen gasped and broke into a smile as she recognized the men.

"What're you two doin' here?" came a familiar voice. Buck Cannon, in dusty black, and Sam Butler, sweating through his buckskin duds, walked up. Roy stood mute, watching while the men neared. Carmen also remained silent but her eyes sparkled as the Chaparral men tipped their hats to her.

"Hey, what is this? Buck, Sam!" Mano strode to meet his friends, extending his hand. Back slaps and handshakes followed.

"Howdy, Mano," Sam smiled.

"Hey, easy there, Mano," Buck said. "We only jus' arrived and is weary and saddle sore."

"Perdoname, amigos. We are pleased to see you. But what are _you_ doing here?"

"Might say the same fer you, S'nor Montoya. You and Missy Carmen was supposed to be on your hon-ee-moon. Or did I git that wrong? An' whut'd you do to yore head?"

"Oh, it is nothing, Buck. And we had a most enjoyable time in Hermosillo. But we remembered about the foals and thought a visit here would be just possible before we go on to Rancho Navarro. Why have you come? Did you also remember the foals?"

"S'nor Hidalgo, I ain't never forgot about them foals. I didn't remind you after the weddin' cuz you an' Missy Carmen," he paused and winked at Carmen, "you two needed to get off by yourselves an' not be worryin' bout nothin', specially no horses. I rode on up to the Chaparral with John an' Victoria, to see 'em safe back. Had to check on Wind an' our mares up there anyway. Stayed a day or so to see that Diablo done his bizness o' coverin' 'em, which he done. Then I tol' Brother John I was heading back down to Casa Cueva on horse matters. Tha's when he decided to send Sam along, too. An' here we be."

"Sam?"

"Yep, Mano. When Big John realized Buck was coming back south, he sent me along to scout out a mare for him," Sam replied. "Somethin' he thought of when he was down here."

"A new mare?"

"Yup," Buck grinned. "Seems yore sister's birthday's comin' up, Mano."

"Ah yes, so it is."

"Well," Sam continued. "Mr. Cannon decided he wanted to give Miz Cannon a fine new mare for her birthday. He figured one of yours might just do the trick, plus he thought maybe you an' me could do a little bargaining and you might just make us a good deal." Sam grinned but Mano only slitted his eyes, raised his chin, and kept his mouth shut, thinking that this did indeed sound like his brother-in-law.

"Yeah. I come along to look after our int'rests," Buck chortled.

"I don't know that we got anythin' right now fer you," Roy chimed in. "We kin look. The newest mustangs y'all brung in last spring are settled down, but we are fixin' to breed 'em to Osito. They's good horses but nuthin' fancy. Don't sound like whut you want fer a lady. An' our other mares is all about to foal." The men and Carmen turned to walk outside the barn toward the back corral, where six mares stood in various stages of uncomfortable pregnancy. All fine animals...none would be ready to be ridden while they were nursing their foals. These would not do. In another corral to the left, seven mustang mares jostled one another to approach the fence and see the people, while the stallion Osito, alone in a small corral, lifted his head and shook his mane, as if to prove he was still the king around there. The men stared, frowning and thinking, till Carmen spoke up.

"Gentlemen, I think I know where you may obtain a mare suitable for my sister-in-law."

Mano heard, understood, and smiled. "Ah, an excellent idea, Carmenita!" he exclaimed.

"Y'all do? Well, com-padres, how's about you let us in on the where?" Buck asked.

"Buck, you remember that Carmen has a ranch of her own down near the coast, near Cajeme?" Mano ventured.

"Uh huh. Shore do. We bin there."

"Rancho Navarro has many fine horses and some exceptional Andalu...er, Spanish mares. One of them should suit Victoria perfectly," he explained while Carmen nodded in agreement. "If my wife is willing to sell…"

"They are _our_ horses, mi vida. I would be pleased for Victoria to possess one!" Carmen exclaimed. Yes, but there will be _no_ discount on the price, Mano thought...or at least not much of one.

"This may solve a problem, Buck, if you and Sam go will down with us to Rancho Navarro."

"What sorta problem, Mano?" Sam asked in his deep voice.

"It concerns Toronado…" Mano began, explaining his ideas about relocating the stallion to Carmen's rancho on the coast. Having both Sam and Buck along on the journey would ensure the safety of the horse and Carmen. They would ride to save time. Sam nodded in agreement while Buck frowned, then spoke up.

"Sound like a good idee, Mano, but one thing bothers me."

"And this is?"

"We got a-nuff horse operations without adding a third location. Or I guess that'd make it a fourth. Toronado is yore horse. If he goes to Rancho Navarro, them horses that come from him down there's gotta be jes yores and Missy Carmen's. I don't want no part of the bizness. Cain't hardly keep up with the C-Bar-M stock we got in Casa Cueva an' up at the Chaparral an' on our own ranch. Life's got a-nuff trouble as it is, y'hear?"

"All right, Buck," Mano replied. "The operation along the coast will be strictly a Montoya…" he paused, eyeing Carmen, "and Navarro enterprise." His wife smiled, a feeling of warmth sweeping over her. Her breath caught. Dios mío, she loved him. How many men would think of his wife's property as anything but his own? And her husband was right. Buck's response was what Mano had earlier told her it would be. She reached for Mano's hand, gave it a squeeze, then turned toward the adobe.

"Excuse me, gentlemen. I wish to go visit with Teresa," Carmen said with a smile as she walked off. All four men watched her go. Buck glanced sideways at Mano, observing how his gran amigo's eyes followed Carmen with a look of pride and pleasure. Buck grinned.

"Mano, that lil lady is a fine, fine gal," Buck said, as Sam whistled under his breath and nodded in agreement.

* * *

"Welcome, señora," the dark skinned man called Vaquero said as Carmen approached the door to his humble adobe. "My niece is inside feeding the baby," he added, his leathery face crinkling and his dark eyes shining. He stepped aside for her to enter, gave a short courtly bow, then strode off to join the other men. Inside the cool darkened home, Carmen spotted Teresa in a corner, a thin blanket draped over her shoulder, the swaddled infant nursing at her breast. Teresa looked up with bright eyes and a cheerful smile.

"Doña Carmen! Please sit down."

Carmen took a chair near the girl and leaned in to move aside the blanket and look at the baby for a few seconds. She smiled at the beauty of mother and child, both so very young. Teresa could not be out of her teens.

"She is lovely, señora."

"Oh, you will please to call me Teresa, Doña Carmen!" And gracias," the younger woman beamed. "I am sorry I cannot offer you some refreshment until…"

"There is no need. I wanted to see this fine baby. How old is she now? And what do you call her?"

"Ana. She is now almost five months of age," Teresa offered, then paused. "Her full name is Ana Manuelita, after your husband."

"Oh?"

"Oh yes. My husband and I would never have met were it not for Don Mano and Señor Buck. In fact, my husband might be dead were it not for yours. They were in jail together, Don Mano accused falsely of a terrible crime! Murder!"

"Oh?" This, too, was news to Carmen. There were many things about her husband she had not heard. Well, at least this explained the naming of the baby.

"Yes, I am afraid that my Roy had fallen in with the wrong sort. But he has changed. For a time he was even in Don Mano's custody!" Carmen heard this and swallowed her laughter. The young girl was so serious and Carmen did not want her to misapprehend the laughter. She was not laughing at Teresa...but at the notion of Manolito as Roy's guardian. Roy seemed so sensible and earnest, if not exactly sharp witted. Teresa shifted the baby to the other breast and the child began suckling, her large placid brown eyes gazing at or perhaps through Carmen for a few seconds till her mother again covered her with the thin blanket. She has the eyes of her great-uncle, Carmen thought. And the calm temperament of her father. She watched Teresa for a moment, then decided to question the young mother further.

"You are nursing your own child. Is this difficult? My sister-in-law hired a wet nurse for my nieces and nephews."

"Ah, that is only for rich people, señora. Or for the ones who have trouble, not enough milk and so forth. Sometimes there is sickness. But here in the desert, almost everyone nurses her own children, even many of the wives of the hidalgos. It is easier and better for babies and mothers."

"For the mothers?"

"Yes, the midwife here in town, Señora Sanchez, explained it to me. Feeding one's own baby helps the body to recover from the delivery. You see, my figure is almost what it was before Ana was born, except of course for my breasts. I suppose these will go down."

"I did not know this. I knew my sister-in-law was bound so that she would not produce milk after she gave birth. It seemed terribly uncomfortable to me and she grew hot and feverish till she, I don't know how to say this delicately, till her milk dried up. She was miserable and could not enjoy her babies for a time." As if she ever enjoyed them, thought Carmen, who adored her nieces and nephews and thought her sister-in-law selfish.

""Well in Sonora, many nurse their own, although wet nurses are available for hire. And it is pleasurable, once you get used to it. Ana and I, we had a little difficulty at first. She would not, cómo se dice, latch on...but Señora Sanchez came and helped us. She knew many little tricks to coax the baby. And then it was fine."

"Ah," Carmen replied, although she had winced at the words "latch on." Teresa detected her concern and guessed at the reason.

"It does not hurt, Doña. And," she paused. "And Señora Sanchez will come to Hacienda Montoya, should the need arise." Carmen smiled at this.

"I am glad to hear it, Teresa. At present there is no need, but perhaps one day." And both women laughed. Teresa, comfortable and happy even in the presence of such a fine lady, launched into a discussion of the various things nursing mothers must avoid eating to prevent the baby's discomfort. The two continued talking as women talk, no matter their age, social class, or education.

"Perhaps best of all, Doña," Teresa exclaimed. "One rarely becomes with child while one is nursing, even if…" and she paused, red-faced and wide eyed. "I mean…."

"I know what you mean, querida," Carmen reassured her as both women started to chuckle.

A sharp neigh from the yard interrupted their chatter. Moments later, the door to the adobe burst open and Roy stuck his head in. "Teresa, honey, Viento is foaling!" he called.

Teresa's eyes widened and she removed Ana from her breast, placing her on her shoulder and patting her back to burp her. The loudness of the ensuing sound startled Carmen...such a big noise from such a little baby. Teresa looked about her, eyeing the crib. "I don't like to put her down just after she eats…" she began and Carmen understood.

"May I take her? You must see to your mare."

"Gracias, Doña!" Teresa exclaimed, thrusting the swaddled infant at her new friend. "Cloths for diapers are stacked beside the crib, should you need one. I like to wait five or ten minutes before putting her down for a nap. She may fall asleep on your shoulder. Gracias!" and the young mother scurried out the door while Carmen held the sturdy infant, smiling into the child's large dark eyes, then placing a cloth over her shoulder before settling the baby there. She patted the child to see if another burp could be encouraged, which it was, along with a stream of sour milk that the baby spit up. Not surprising, clucked Carmen, glad for the cloth. She wiped the infant's face, discarding the cloth in a basket that appeared to be for that purpose, and replacing it with another on her shoulder from the stack of diapers. She was quite at home doing this. She had often cared for her brother's little ones. Carlos and his wife, Maria, with their stinginess and constant demands, had not inspired loyalty among their servants and were often short-handed.

Carmen surveyed the clean, humble adobe of Vaquero with a tinge of sadness. This young girl had little help caring for these two men and the niña. And all the horses, too. Well, such was the life of most villagers, she reflected, grateful that if and when she and Manolo had children of their own, they would also have servants to help. And we shall pay them well, Carmen decided. The infant whimpered a little and Carmen shifted her a bit, rubbing her back and bouncing her with great gentleness as mothers do to soothe their babies. She looked up as the door opened and placed a finger to her lips as she saw her husband.

"Shhh," Carmen said.

"I am sorry," Mano whispered, then broke into a huge smile at the sight before him. Perhaps one day we shall have one of those, he thought to himself, then continued whispering, "Teresa said to tell you that when little Ana is asleep, it will be all right to put her down in the crib and to join us. Or if she will not sleep, they have a pallet in the stables where she may play."

"Gracias," Carmen whispered in return. "She does not seem sleepy, but she does seem, ah, wet. I shall change her and bring her outside."

"Oh, well, I shall leave you to that then," Mano replied, backing out of the door and closing it behind him. I am sure you will, Carmen laughed to herself. Men, no matter their station, do not like to change diapers, this she knew.

* * *

Outside, although it was only early afternoon, Viento had indeed commenced foaling. A little too early an' not exactly normal fer a mare to foal in daylight, thought Roy, but sometimes you haveta live with God's timin'. He sat at the horse's head, soothing her. "There you go, girl. It's gonna be aw right soon, girl. Hang on."

"Sam, there are some bales of straw and a tarpaulin inside the stables," Vaquero said, watching with gratitude as Buck and Sam both made for the barn. A few trips back and forth, and several bales were stacked around the mare so that a tarp could be placed to shade her from the hot sun. Mano fetched a bucket of water. Carmen strolled out with the baby but kept a safe distance in the shade of the barn nearby, watching.

Teresa took Roy's place at Viento's head while Roy moved to the business end of the horse, watching, his brow furrowed in concern. Shore wuz a fine mare. Pretty paint an' if she passed on her color to the foal, Buck an' Mano an' us'll have a real fine start to the bizness. Good market fer ridin' horses. Ladies loved paints. It wuz worryin' time, Roy figured. Yet then, just as the moon follows the sun, the foal slipped into this world. Roy helped it out of the fetal sack and scooped out its little mouth and nose.

The tiniest of whinnies sounded, and Viento rolled her head around to see her baby. "Sí, sí, Mamá. Here is your niña," Teresa said. The girl and the men all took a step back to give the horse room as with a small shiver and toss of her mane, Viento got to her feet and started licking her foal, helping it to find her teat. Loud suckling noises ensued, making them all chuckle. The crisis had passed. After a few minutes, Teresa and Roy encouraged Viento and her new daughter, who was even more painted than her mother, to move into one of the large clean stalls inside the barn and out of the heat. The horses ambled along, content to be led inside. There in the cool barn, Viento lay down in the thick clean sweet straw and rolled and rolled. The humans laughed while the little filly, seeing her mother's somersaults, jumped around her as if on springs. All this Carmen, still holding the baby, watched with happiness from her shady vantage point before moving to stand beside her husband.

 _VKS & MJRod pay tribute to the actors, creator, and writers of "The High Chaparral" with our season 4 continuation. We do claim the creation of Carmen, although we borrowed her name from a David Dortort script proposal. Delgado and the entirety of Rancho Navarro are our creations as well._


	4. Chapter 4

**Rancho Navarro Chapter Four: Foals and More Foals**

Satisfied that their friends in Casa Cueva could handle the mares and the foaling, and knowing that the stable master of Rancho Montoya, Valencio Ruiz, could be summoned in haste, Carmen and Mano returned to Hacienda Montoya that evening. Buck and Sam Butler remained adamant about staying in Casa Cueva, despite some discussion among the three men and Carmen.

"Mano, I can just as well stay above the cantina in Casa Cueva," Sam said."Mr. Cannon gave me money for that."

"Nonsense, Sam," Mano replied. "You will join us at the hacienda. There is plenty of room. You can have a good rest, a good meal, get cleaned up, and prepare for our journey to the coast."

"Mano, are you sure those horses…" Sam began but Mano interrupted him.

"I know my sister. She will like these," Mano replied, then, still seeing Sam's hesitance. "Look, hombre, we know the horses in this part of Sonora. My Carmen is right. There is nothing to match the ones at Rancho Navarro."

"But that's gonna put me returning to Chaparral a sight later than Big John probably figured," Sam continued. "He isn't gonna like it."

"Compadre, he will love it when he sees my sister's face as he presents her with the new mare. Besides, Sam, we really need both you and Buck to accompany us as we take Toronado to Rancho Navarro. Hombre, it will not be safe for us. Toronado attracts much attention. Por favor, Sam. Please!"

"All right, but you may haveta square it with Big John."

"With pleasure," Mano smiled, although all three men knew that Victoria, not Mano, would be the one to square things with Big John, who was fond enough of his brother-in-law but adored his wife.

"Do all of us haveta go to Rancho Navarro, Mano?" Buck ventured. "I mean, they could use me in Casa Cueva helpin' with the mares. That is why I come back, ya know."

"Oh Buck, yes, you must come," Carmen exclaimed. "In fact, we met an old…" but Mano interrupted her.

"Yes, amigo, we met up with a very bad man in Hermosillo, and I, ah, want friends I can trust with us for this journey to the ranch." Carmen glanced at Mano, seeing his wide eyes and observing the slight shake of his head directed at her, and she fell silent. So her husband did not wish to mention that woman at the Hermosillo freight office to Buck. Well, why not was something she could and would ask him later, but not now. Buck looked off, sniffed and worked his mouth, but agreed.

"Aw right, you Montoyas kin have yore way. Here we is, at yore service," Buck said. "Don't worry, Sam, if them mares at Carmen's ranch are half as good as they say, you won't have no trouble with my brother."

"All right, Buck."

"I do think Teresa needs help in Casa Cueva though," Carmen changed the subject. "With the baby, the mares, the house, her husband and uncle…"

"Sí. Well, perhaps I have an idea about that as well," Mano added with a small smile. "Shall we go to the hacienda, Carmen?" he asked, taking her arm and escorting her to the stables with a backward wistful glance at a grinning Buck and Sam who, he knew, would make for the cantina as soon as Carmen and he were out of sight, if not before. Carmen saw also and decided that tomorrow, Mano would return to Casa Cueva alone. She had much to do to prepare for the journey to Cajeme anyway. As women sometimes must be with women, so men needed time just with other men.

* * *

Mano's idea proved to be the sending of Estéban, a Montoya stable boy, to Casa Cueva at least till the foals were weaned, and perhaps for longer. Estéban could learn much from Roy, Teresa, and Vaquero...and could muck out the stables, haul water, and otherwise relieve Teresa of some of her responsibilities. He had younger siblings, so he could even watch the baby if necessary. The boy's parents, whose family lived on Rancho Montoya and had many mouths to feed, agreed at once when the stable master, Ruiz, and Don Manolo came to them to ask their permission.

"It will be good for the boy," Estéban's father said. His mother's eyes grew moist, but she also agreed. It was a temporary arrangement and, even if it became permanent, Estéban was only a half hour's ride away. He could learn much. And what an honor it would be to live and work alongside the alcalde of Casa Cueva. And to have been chosen by Don Manolo. The Martinez family could not believe such an opportunity had been given their son. Mano watched the tender family scene and saw Estéban's solemn assent. When I am patrón, thought Mano, there will be funds set aside for the education of these rancho children. At least for their training. Sonora is becoming a new land. Mexico is changing, and if we do not care for these niños, who knows what may happen to us all.

"Ah, bueno, Don Mano!" Teresa exclaimed when she met Estéban late the next morning as Mano brought him to Casa Cueva, both riding Macadoo. "Muchacho, you will be much help to us. Now is the summer, but if you are here next fall, you should know that Don Domingo sends the tutor from the rancho to Casa Cueva two mornings a week, so there will be school." Estéban's face fell at this news, but Mano was pleased...almost as pleased as the news he received from Buck moments later.

"Hey Mano! Where you bin?" Buck hollered as he jogged up to his friend. "We got us one more filly an' a colt, S'nor Montoya! All lookin' good!" Buck exclaimed. "Come on an' have a look." He did and saw there was much to do. The rest of the day was spent in hard work: feeding, hauling water, cleaning the corrals so that the horses weren't walking in manure. As the late afternoon sun burned hot, Mano soaked a kerchief in the livery's largest water trough and tied the wet cloth again around his neck. His jacket long since discarded, his gold shirt, drenched with perspiration, stuck to his skin. Buck doused his head, shoulders, and hat in the same trough, while Sam scooped up a double handful of water and splashed it on his face before also dipping his bandana in the trough. As the sun began to set in a wash of reds and golds, the three men leaned against the corral fence with the satisfied air of those who have worked hard and accomplished much.

"It's hotter'n blazes," Sam said.

"Sí, hotter than I can remember this close to evening," Mano agreed. "The air, it is so still."

"Yup, nary a breeze," Buck added. "I ain't…"

His words were lost in the still air as Roy hollered, "Hey, Mano, Buck, Sam, over here!" The men tore across to the far side of the corral and saw that one of the mares had started to foal. They scrambled to erect a makeshift shelter of tarp and hay bales when Vaquero called out.

"Muchachos, ven aquí!"

Another mare, too, was foaling. "Ayudame!" Teresa, her own infant asleep inside the adobe, called minutes later as a third mare began to foal. Estéban scurried to her side. It was impossible to move the mares into the barn, and they did not have enough straw bales or tarpaulins to shelter all three. Mano and Roy stayed with the first mare. Buck jogged over to help Vaquero. Sam moved to assist Teresa and the boy. The mares were calm, all except one. Restless, the first mare kept standing up and then lying down as if she couldn't decide whether to foal or not.

"Calma, calma," Mano said in a lilting singsong voice as he and Roy laid cold cloths over the horse's withers and on her head.

"This ain't good. She's takin' too long," Roy whispered. Many minutes passed until the mare gave a great sigh and collapsed to the ground. By then, the other horses had delivered their foals, and the men, Estéban, and Teresa gathered around the last mare, waiting and hoping. She gave a great heave and the baby popped out, lying on the ground, motionless. Buck sank to his knees and broke the sack, scooping out the colt's nose and mouth and blowing into them with his breath. It was no use. The foal was stillborn. The men stood, silent and helpless, staring at the lifeless little body. Teresa and Vaquero stroked the mare and soothed her with gentle words. She struggled upright and they led her away and into a stall at the far end of the barn, away from the other mothers, who were now sharing accommodations in the stalls since the barn was not large. A horse herd looks after its own. The foals, though born into domesticity, bonded as herd members with instincts from beyond time. Roy and Estéban carried off the dead foal and buried it away from the buildings.

* * *

The men, long faced, started to walk back into the adobe till Buck caught sight of fat Chico sweeping the porch in front of the cantina across the street. "Aw, come on. We need a drink. Let's go git us one," Buck waved his arm in the direction of the cantina. Four of them turned to walk to Chico's but Roy elected to stay behind with Teresa, little Ana, and Estéban, who had tried very hard not to cry but whose bottom lip quivered and whose eyes moistened as he carried off the dead colt.

"Amigos, a drink on me, eh?" Mano said as they entered the cantina.

"Well, all right then," Sam boomed.

"Chico, traigame una botella de tequila y cuatro vasos, por favor," Mano told the portly barkeep, flipping him a few silver coins, then joining his friends at a large round table in the center of the cantina. Chico ambled over with small blue glasses and a bottle which Mano grasped, tugging at the cork with his teeth and pouring drinks all round. The men raised their glasses and sipped. Mano's shirt began to dry, white patches of salt discoloring the gold.

"Well, that's sure tough, losing a foal. But that's horses I guess," Sam opined, sipping his tequila.

"Sí." Mano agreed, his lips a straight line.

"Oh c'mon, Mano. It's a blow, but we got us five healthy little foals back there. We oughta be countin' our blessings, ain't we?" Buck urged.

"Sí," but Mano still stared into his drink. I would like to turn back the clock to where there was a mare with a foal inside her, he thought, blinking, unsmiling.

"Yeah, Mano, Buck's right. You got some fine horses there, amigo, and those youngsters will bring you a pretty price if you train 'em right and sell 'em in the right place."

"You are right, Sam. Gracias. Too much to expect them all to deliver safely," Mano said, shrugging and taking another long swallow. "Such is life." And death, he mused.

"Yup, even pretty things has to die," Buck added, then punched Mano on the shoulder. "C'mon, S'nor Montoya, let's us look on the bright side. Look at whut we got." He raised his glass. "To our horses!" Buck proclaimed. Even Mano smiled a little and lifted his glass. Each man then fell quiet, preoccupied with his own thoughts...till Mano spoke up, shifting subjects.

"Vaquero, you have enough money in the bank in Nogales?"

"Yes, Manolito."

"And you are taking 20 percent of all sales for yourself and Roy?"

"Sí, Manolito. Twenty percent of the net."

"No, hombre. Twenty percent of the gross. We absorb the overhead. You have much to do with the care of our horses."

"Tha's right, Vaquero. Twenny puh-cent flat off the top goes to you all," Buck affirmed.

"All right. You should know we sold those two mustang colts from Osito at a very good price."

"Bueno. Please ensure you have sufficient funds to purchase horses, feed, tack, and so forth," Mano continued.

"Of course. Teresa keeps good records. She has a head for figures," Vaquero added with a slight but proud smile.

"An' you know, Wind's doin' the same fer us up at the Chaparral," Buck said.

"How did Wind learn to read, write, and keep books?" Mano wondered aloud.

"I can tell ya that," Sam piped up. "Indians just about all know how to do figures. But seems his mother taught him letters and sounds. Wind said his mother learned it from his father before he died. Then she taught him." Only Mano saw Buck's eyes widen and mouth open at this news as Sam continued. "Wind was a slave to the Pawnee after his father passed. Then he and his mother were taken by the Apache and held as slaves. After she died, he escaped them and spent a year workin' at a mission."

"Ah, the good fathers probably finished the job of educating him to read and write then," Mano surmised.

"Yup," said Sam. "An' the boy's real smart, so it came natural."

Mano cut his eyes to Buck, who stared off at a side wall. "Gentlemen, another drink?" Mano inquired, filling their glasses again all around, drawing Buck's attention. A smile creased Buck's leathery face.

"Grac-ias, S'nor Montoya. An' jes what brings you to buy us these drinks today?" Buck asked, as the tequila slid down his throat. Mano gave his friends a tight lipped grin and leaned back in his chair, stretching out his legs and crossing them at his ankles.

"Buck, you see before you a contented man," he sighed.

"Oh, izzat so?"

"It is."

"LIttle missy makin' you pretty happy, is she?"

Mano smiled in reply. He would say no more.

"Miz Carmen's a real fine lady, Mano," Sam said. "Like Missus Cannon." Mano nodded in agreement. "I know you're gonna be very happy," Sam continued, adding, after another sip of tequila: "Don't take anything for granted. I, uh, I'd give my right arm to have Trini with me."

"Yup. Yore Trini, she was a fine woman, too, Sam," Buck said to his friend as all again fell silent, each man looking at nothing and thinking of the fine women they had known.

"She was that," Sam said at last. "I wish I'd never listened to her people. Never left. Never given up. She might be with me today."

"You cannot think that way, Sam," Mano said.

"Yes, I can, Mano. But there's nothing I can do about it except pick up and keep movin.'" After a moment, the cowboy added, "It's good...it's good to have friends."

They all took a solemn drink.

"How 'bout you, Vaquero? You never git married?"

"No, Buck. I came close once. But no."

"Well, I come close once too, but you all know about that," Buck replied. "With Charly. Fact is, I was sorta married some time before that. But she died."

"I didn't know about that, Buck. When was this?" Sam asked.

"Bout 20 years back, give er take. In the Oklahoma territory," Buck said. "She was. She was a Pawnee gal. Don't nobody know about her, 'cept Mano here and I only just tol' him. When did I tell you, Mano? It weren't long ago."

"No. It was not," Mano affirmed.

"Anyway, John don't even know about her."

"Well, we ain't gonna say anything then," Sam replied.

"Good. Like I said, Mano, you is a lucky man."

The caballero nodded, poured out the last of the tequila, and they finished the bottle, four very quiet men. "I think I'll get back to the hacienda," Mano said. "Amigos, until tomorrow, eh? We meet in the morning at Rancho Montoya? We do need your help and Carmen's horses are indeed excellent."

"We be there, Mano. We gonna leave here at daybreak," Buck said.

"Nos vemos, compadres," Mano sighed, rising from the table. With a glance back at his friends, he paused by the bar on his way out, tossing Chico a few more coins. "Otra botella por mis amigos, eh Chico?" Mano said, turning toward the door with a wave of his hand to his compadres.

"I don't believe this," Sam grinned as Chico scuttled over with the fresh bottle.

"Looka there, what has got inta S'nor Montoya? Neva thought I'd see the day," Buck exclaimed. "I tell you, that Missy Carmen is purty good fer him, ain't she?"

Vaquero sat, silent and still, but the corners of his eyes crinkled a bit and the hint of a smile passed across his stoic brown face.

 _VKS & MJRod pay tribute to the actors, creator, and writers of "The High Chaparral" with our season 4 continuation. We do claim the creation of Carmen, although we borrowed her name from a David Dortort script proposal. Delgado and the entirety of Rancho Navarro are our creations as well._


	5. Chapter 5

**Rancho Navarro Chapter Five: On to the Rancho Navarro**

Two days later, four trail weary riders-one caballero leading a magnificent black stallion-rode onto the broad, flat grassy acreage of Rancho Navarro, picking their way across a shallow bubbling stream lined by cottonwoods and mesquite toward a white stucco hacienda which gleamed in the early afternoon sunlight. They neared ornate wrought iron gates, embellished with a scroll work _N_ , which provided access to the high walled compound rising above the adobe homes clustered about it.

"Halto, señores," called a bearded guard with a cartridge magazine draped across his chest. Then his face softened. "Oh, Señora Navarro, perdoname."

"Not Señora Navarro, Juan," Carmen replied with a smile. "Señora Montoya."

"Oh sí!" the guard grinned and hurried to open the gates. "Bienvenidos, señores!"

Carmen nodded and smiled as did the men. Buck gave a small salute and they entered the compound which, on the whole, Sam thought, resembled a smaller Rancho Montoya. Pretty nice piece of property, the cowboy mused. But then, it wouldn't be much like a Montoya to marry somebody without land, now would it? Carmen, unused to camping overnight on the trail, could think of little besides stripping off the dusty riding clothes she had worn for two days and soaking in a hot bath. But introductions first had to be made. She looked down to see a sturdy man, dressed as an hidalgo in a dark blue suit, tall, with a slight paunch and wiry gray hair, striding toward her. Mano handed the reins of the stallion he led to the stable boy who scurried up.

"You remember Toronado, muchacho? Watch him well." Mano said, observing the gleam in the youth's eye which ensured the stallion would be well cared for, as he had been during his brief stay at Rancho Navarro a month before. Mano dismounted, handing the reins of his own horse, Macadoo, to another stable boy, then moving to assist Carmen from her horse, a gesture she allowed but did not need.

"Señor Delgado!" Carmen exclaimed, rushing to embrace the hidalgo who greeted her with affection, much as a beloved uncle might greet a favorite niece. Delgado turned to Mano next, extending his hand with a smile of genuine warmth and the men shook hands. Handshakes were exchanged next with Buck and then, after introductions, Sam.

"Mucho gusto, Señor Delgado," the Chaparral foreman said.

"Por favor. Come inside. Your trunk was retrieved days ago from Cajeme and your rooms are ready," Delgado said. "Señores Butler and Cannon, you will stay within the hacienda in the guest quarters. Doña Carmen, my wife and daughter have prepared the room that once belonged to your in-laws for you and Señor Montoya. We hope you will be happy with, eh, the changes." Carmen beamed while Mano paused.

"Manolito, Señor Delgado. Please call me Manolito."

"Don Mano then," Delgado said, reluctant to dispense with the formality, a decision that Mano decided was not worth appealing. He smiled a thin smile. "Your horses will be cared for," Delgado added. "I expect you wish to clean up from your journey. Gentlemen, a bath house may be found out back. The servants will attend to you there and will even clean your clothes, should you so desire. Doña Carmen, the servants will arrange for your bath in your chambers, as usual." They moved through a large sitting area with sofas, chairs, and a stone fireplace, toward a long hallway off which bedrooms opened. Las' time we wuz here, Buck recalled, ever-thin' was covered with cloths to keep offa dust. Now looks like somebody lives heah. The entire home sparkled. Tile floors gleamed. Wooden tables shone.

"Muchas gracias, Señor Delgado!" Carmen smiled.

* * *

One hour later, three scrubbed and clean men and one woman had changed into spare clothes, allowing the servants to wash their dirty trail gear. Don't get this kinda treatment often, Sam mused. Nice to be a guest once in awhile. The group, Delgado included, settled into upholstered chairs in the dining room, Carmen and Mano at the foot and head of the large rectangular carved oak table as servants carried in bowls of soup.

"Tortuga, er turtle soup," Delgado said. "Considered a delicacy. This new cook has taken lessons in New Orleans."

"And the turtles you must have in the creek, eh?" Mano asked as Buck tucked a white linen napkin under his chin and all picked up spoons to begin eating.

"Sí."

"Our room, Señor Delgado, it is beautiful," Carmen spoke up after a few spoonfuls of soup. "Please convey my thanks to Señora Delgado and Margarita. Such lovely linens. And the mattress, so thick."

"It is new, Doña Carmen, as you know. Ordered from Guaymas. We had never replaced the other," Delgado's voice trailed off and he grew silent.

"No, we had not," Carmen responded. "Gentlemen, the yellow fever took my husband's parents. Señor Delgado and I, we dealt with much sadness and death, did we not? And so fast. All so fast."

"It is all right, querida. Do not speak of it," Mano said in a low voice.

"No, I can speak of it. I had a mild case of the fever," Carmen went on. "The doctors say I will never suffer from it again. But Antonio's parents and so many of our villagers…. We buried many bodies and burned much clothing, linens, bedding. The fires, they seemed endless…the ashes…." All grew quiet, contemplating the misery that had befallen this rancho in times past. Delgado cleared his throat and spoke.

"Don Antonio had spoken with an army doctor who informed him that mosquitos were somehow responsible. The doctor had done research at the university and so we did as Don Antonio, following the doctor's advice, instructed upon his return to the rancho following the death of his parents. We emptied all standing water. We tried to remove all stagnant water or at least destroy the larvae of the mosquitos as we found these. Of course we could do nothing about the stream and the marshlands surrounding it down in the valley. But we have not had a serious outbreak since," Delgado explained.

"That is good to know," Mano said.

"Yeller fever, tha's one bad sickness. Saw some of it in the war," Buck added. "Ain't nuthin I ever wanna see agin."

"Nor do we," Delgado affirmed.

As the five finished their soup, servants arrived with plates of arroz con pollo and summer vegetables, exchanging bowls for plates. Buck picked up a drumstick to gnaw on while the others grasped forks and knives and began to eat. Why do Mano allus turn that fork a his upside down? Buck wondered, watching his friend. Missy Carmen does it too. An' Delgado. A glance at Sam showed him handling his fork as if it were a small shovel. Sam and me, we eat American, Buck decided, although Buck's American eating was conducted with more gusto and noise.

"Doña Carmen y Don Mano, you will stay at Rancho Navarro some weeks?" Delgado asked.

"Sí. This is our intention," Carmen replied. "Actually, we still consider ourselves on our luna de miel, but it had been so long since I had been here."

"Yes, this was her choice," Mano continued. "But we would have come soon, regardless. You see we have brought Toronado and we intend to leave him…." And Delgado's eyes shone and smile grew as Mano explained the decision to move the horse to the coast.

"Ah, bueno! La Señora's mares will be more than a match. What excellent stock you will breed…"

"They are now _our_ mares, Señor Delgado, Manolo's and mine," Carmen corrected him and Delgado nodded in agreement.

"Nonetheless, an excellent idea," Delgado affirmed.

"Señor Delgado, we shall need you to manage this horse breeding business for us," Mano said. "In exchange for a percentage of the profits, of course. We shall discuss the details later." Delgado again nodded, his eyes twinkling and mouth curved into a slight smile. He had not expected this news and it pleased him. "But before then, Señor Delgado, Mr. Butler is in the market for a fine mare for my sister," Mano continued.

"Yes, my brother-in-law wishes to surprise my sister-in-law for her birthday," Carmen jumped in, "and nothing would please me more than if she were to have one of the Andalusian mares. This is why we were able to convince Señor Buck and Señor Sam to accompany us here with Toronado."

"Well, gentlemen, I am sure this can be arranged. A tour perhaps of the rancho? Would you like to see the horses this afternoon?"

"If it can be done, Señor Delgado," Sam replied. "I really need to be getting back to Arizona. Mr. Cannon's expecting me."

"Very good. Let us enjoy the rest of our meal and I shall escort you myself. Doña Carmen, do you wish to accompany us?"

"Oh, yes! I have not seen the latest improvements. We can always rest tomorrow," she smiled at Mano, for she expected that they would get little rest tonight. They were, after all, still on their honeymoon.

 _VKS & MJRod pay tribute to the actors, creator, and writers of "The High Chaparral" with our season 4 continuation. We do claim the creation of Carmen, although we borrowed her name from a David Dortort script proposal. Delgado and the entirety of Rancho Navarro are our creations as well._


	6. Chapter 6

**Rancho Navarro Chapter Six: Touring the Rancho**

After a quick tour of the Navarro stables, Delgado led the party on a slow walk late that afternoon, all mounted on Rancho Navarro horses that were well schooled and calm.

"Much too hot for us to go any faster," Delgado explained. "And our horses are spread in small groups along the meadows which line the stream. This way we will not overlook any in haste." Buck and Mano shook their heads yes, understanding. Delgado continued, "Señor Butler, do you have any idea about the size of mare that Señora Cannon would like?"

"That's just the trouble, Señor Delgado, I don't. The mare she's been riding is kinda middling in height, around 15 hands I reckon, but she's quite stout and not a real lady's horse, if you know what I mean."

"Indeed, señor. I understand perfectly. If you look at these mares to the left you will see some of our older animals, calmer and trained more thoroughly."

"Those are fine animals," Sam acknowledged. "Can we keep looking, though? I'd kinda like to get Miz Cannon something a little younger than what she rides now."

"Por supuesto. As you wish."

"Heah's some up ahead. See the five of 'em under that willow?" Buck pointed out. "They seem younger an' stronger. Least they got more muscle than the others."

"Ah, Carmenita, que guapas son!" Mano exclaimed.

"Oh yes, Manolo, these are a few of our three year old mares. Their father was our best stallion. He died just last year. They have had some training but could use some refining," Carmen replied. The afternoon sun spread checkered shadows over the mares. Two bays, one dappled gray, a red roan, and a sorrel browsed in the grass underneath the tree. The sorrel lifted her head, shook her mane, and moved into the sunlight. Her coat shone like polished copper. Sam's eyes gleamed.

"How about that one?" Sam pointed at the sorrel.

"Yes, she is in good condition and her conformation is excellent. Would you like to have her caught so that you may try her?"

"If you don't mind, Señor Delgado, I sure would." Sam's smile stretched across his face.

A vaquero riding alongside the party roped the mare, who stood, quiet and confident, while the man fitted her with a headcollar and lead rope.

"Hey, Sam, good choice, eh?" Mano called out.

"I think so, Mano. We'll see when she's ridden."

* * *

The group turned their mounts back toward the rancho compound, reaching the large barn in the rear within a half hour. This is one purty place, Buck thought, as the gelding he rode picked his way through lush coastal grasses. Purty good pasture an' plenty of it. Lotsa water with that nice little stream. Mano's gonna raise some mighty fine horseflesh down here.

At the barn, a young vaquero saddled the mare and led her out to a small holding corral. The group dismounted and followed to see how she would perform. Sam stepped on the lowest slat of the corral fence and sidled himself over the top while the vaquero led the mare through the gate. The sorrel seemed calm, unphased by saddle and bridle. Good signs, thought Sam. But I'm gonna haveta ride you, gal, to see if you'll do for Miz Cannon. Let's see how much you know and how far you need to go. He looked her over up close. Hmm, looks to be about 15 hands. Proportions perfect. Long, clean legs. Small hooves. And what a pretty head. Small, Sam thought, but good looking. He noticed her large eyes and fox-like ears. A narrow blaze ran down her face. She had one white sock on her off front foot. Her mane was long and flowing, as was her tail. She was purty as a picture, Buck thought. Victoria's gonna love her.

Sam mounted as the vaquero held the bridle. Once the vaquero let go, Sam eased the horse into a walk. So far so good, he thought. She's got an even footfall and she's comfortable to ride. All right, gal, let's go a little faster. He nudged her sides and she moved into a slow jog with no resistance to the bit or to his legs. Sam slowed her again to a walk and then asked her to lope on the right lead. The mare responded, moving into a soft, smooth, ground-eating lope. Man, I feel like I'm sittin' in the porch rocker on this gal, Sam mused. "Well, she's good and broke. She's gonna be ready for Miz Cannon to ride right off," he exclaimed.

"Sí, she will only improve with a consistent rider and constant use. In a year or so she will make a good mare for breeding, if the Cannons have a stallion worthy of her," Delgado replied.

Delgado could not have touched on a subject more close to all their hearts than this one. Buck roared; Mano chuckled and Sam said, through hearty laughter, "I think we've got the stallion to suit her, señor. You see, Mano's left his stallion Diablo at the Chaparral. Toronado's sire. Yessir, I think he'll do for this little lady, in time."

"What is her name, Señor Delgado?" Mano inquired.

"She bears a noble name, Don Mano. She is called Alisa."

"What a lovely name. I am sure Victoria will think so, too," Carmen added.

"I'm sure she will, ma'am. I'm sure she will." Sam grinned. "And you were right. She sure was worth the trip down here. But I guess, Señor Delgado, or I guess Señora Carmen, we better settle on a price."

Negotiations commenced as Mano and Delgado haggled with Sam, but only a little while Carmen and Buck looked on, amused. Then Carmen spoke up, offering Sam a price just underneath Delgado's latest proposal. Sam agreed while Buck grinned.

"Way I see it, Mano, is if John gets a good deal now, he might let us breed her to Diablo, no strings attached," Buck suggested. "Mebbe just a little thread."

"We are giving my brother-in-law quite a bargain, Sam. Be sure he knows this," Mano said. "But it is for Victoria."

"All right," Sam said, peeling off banknotes from a roll in his pocket. This oughta do it."

"Gracias," Delgado said, taking the money. "And Don Mano, I shall put this in the rancho account." Mano nodded. He still had business to settle with Delgado regarding percentages and so forth, but that could be discussed later.

"I guess you an' me better be gettin' back to the Chaparral, Sam," Buck said. "I figure we get a good night's sleep tonight an' head out in the morning. Sound about right to you?"

"Yep. Big John's probably wonderin' where I am," the foreman agreed, but Mano frowned.

"Shall we go inside and have a drink, eh? Señor Delgado, if I remember, you have whiskey, yes?"

"I do, Don Mano. Shall we? Gentlemen? Doña Carmen?"

* * *

"Fine hand-tooled saddles," Delgado said while pouring drinks from a crystal decanter of whiskey as they settled or sprawled on sofas and chairs in the living room. "I ordered four, silver mounted, from a craftsman in Hermosillo. I thought they might be delivered when your trunk arrived in Cajeme, but the owner of the freight line left me a note. They will be delivered on Tuesday next."

"My sister would love such a saddle," Mano said. "You say you got them at a good price?"

"An excellent price. I ordered one for my wife, one for Doña Carmen, and the other two for guests. Those are not spoken for."

"Buck, must you go back so soon? Sam?"

"I gotta, Mano. The boss'll be needin' me."

"An' I better tag along with Sam."

"But Victoria does not have a fine saddle, something worthy of this horse," Mano continued. Buck cocked an eye at him, wondering why his amigo was makin' such a big deal over a saddle. "You have toured the stables here. The horse Alisa will be well taken care of. It will not hurt you to wait a few days until the freight is delivered," Mano continued, his tone coaxing, persuasive.

"Ain't no worry 'bout that, Mano. I know'd ever-thing is good here," Buck said. "An I tell you whut. You and me gotta get us some of them wrought iron ground mangers they got heah at Rancho Navarro. Them is sure somethin'. That pine paddin' along the casings keeps the horses from hurtin' themselves. Best thing I ever seen in a ground manger. They shore oughta prevent colic. Señor Delgado, thank you agin fer that tour you give us. Mighty impressive."

"Por nada," Delgado said.

"But as fer these saddles," Buck continued. "A saddle is jest a saddle. You put it on your horse and you sit on it. Ain't nothin' more to it, is there, Sam?"

"He's gotta point, Mano. You can only sit on one saddle at a time."

"Señores, permiso. I do think you should consider what Don Mano is saying," Delgado said. "These saddles are indeed unusually fine. Why, the freight owner, she said she had never seen such beautiful workmanship."

"The freight owner, _she_?" Buck asked, setting down his whiskey. "A _woman_ runnin' freight in Mexico?"

"Sí, señor. Señorita Converse is her name."

Buck picked up his glass, downed the whiskey in one long swallow, breathed out, and looked at Mano, whose eyes had widened and who now looked at his wife with a half smile, an uncomfortable chuckle the only sound he made at first.

"Charly Converse?" Buck demanded of Mano.

"Ah, well, amigo…"

"You know'd Charly wuz here and you didn't think to tell me?"

"Ah, no."

"He did think to tell you, Buck," Carmen interjected. "He just did not know how. Or when. We did see Señorita Charly in Hermosillo before we left. And this you should know. The last thing she said to us was that we were to tell you she said hello."

"She did?"

"She did."

Buck worked his mouth, glanced sideways at Sam, and, after a minute, spoke.

"Well Sam, I think you're gonna be goin' back alone. Or mebbe Señor Delgado'll send a man with you. I ain't comin' back to Chaparral jest yet."

"All right, Buck," Sam replied, taking a long swig of whiskey and leaning back in the chair.

"I can certainly do that, Señor Butler," Delgado said.

"And Sam, if you stop by Rancho Montoya, Tío Domingo will send two men with you to High Chaparral so that this man may return. Rodrigo has men to spare," Mano added. "Tell them it was my idea if necessary, but when Ruiz sees this sorrel…"

"Sounds good," Sam nodded. "I'll head out first light an' pay your uncle a visit on the way back."

"Ah, bueno. All is settled then," Mano exclaimed with a grin, although Carmen noticed that her husband avoided looking at Buck.

 _VKS & MJRod pay tribute to the actors, creator, and writers of "The High Chaparral" with our season 4 continuation. We do claim the creation of Carmen, although we borrowed her name from a David Dortort script proposal. Delgado and the entirety of Rancho Navarro are our creations as well._


	7. Chapter 7

**Rancho Navarro Chapter Seven: Truly Together**

That evening the friends enjoyed a meal filled with excellent wine, good conversation, and fine companionship. The following morning, Sam left Rancho Navarro leading the beautiful Alisa and accompanied by one of Delgado's most trusted vaqueros, Lopez, a middle-aged man with plenty of trail experience. They would break their journey at Rancho Montoya so that Lopez could turn back and Sam could refill his pack and pick up two Montoya men who would know the route to the High Chaparral well. Mano made sure to remind Sam to show the sorrel to Ruiz. Sam would also stop in Casa Cueva to let Vaquero, Roy, and Teresa take a look at Victoria's birthday present. The journey north would be risky, but both Sam and the vaqueros would remain alert at all times. Carmen prayed and Mano hoped they would arrive intact with Alisa. Mano wished he could see his sister's face when she saw the mare, but he could imagine her response and this pleased him.

After all goodbyes were said that morning, Buck, Mano, and Carmen went into the office with Delgado for whiskey and business. After an hour in the small confines of the foreman's office, Carmen decided they would be closeted in there for hours, so much was there to discuss. She had never really been interested in business, but she was not without financial acumen or common sense. She now regretted earlier having given her brother so much control over her affairs when she could have dealt with things perfectly well herself, but she had been vulnerable and lacking self-confidence after Antonio's death. And she had not wished to be bothered. Ah well, water under the bridge, she thought with a sigh.

"Excuse me, gentlemen," she said, interrupting some discussion of cattle prices that waxed long, "but I think I shall go rest. I have been tired of late. Please keep me informed regarding your decisions and all that you think I should know about the rancho."

"Of course, querida," Mano replied, giving her hand a squeeze. "We shall make no decisions without your knowledge and approval." She smiled, grateful that she had a husband who would spare her the details but respect her opinions. She headed for her bedroom and just a small siesta.

An hour or so later, a light kiss awakened her and her eyes opened to fix upon the handsome face of her husband.

"Manolo! Mi vida!" she stretched her arms and spine.

"Ah, Carmenita, lo siento, I did not intend to wake you. You do not know how much you tempt me while you sleep. You, so beautiful, with the face of an angel." He placed another, longer kiss on her mouth.

"My darling husband, as long as it is only I who tempts you…" her eyelashes fluttered, coy, but the small smile playing at the edges of her lips told him she was just teasing him. How could he think of anyone else when she filled his heart to bursting?

"What would you like to do for the rest of this afternoon?" Mano inquired, stretching himself out next to her and raising his eyebrows in a question that his smile made seductive. Or perhaps it was his hands? "I have arranged for Delgado to give Buck a more extensive tour of the property and the barns."

"Could we take a ride? You and I alone? Just along the stream? There is a small glade some way down where we might relax and enjoy a glass of wine, perhaps..."

"Oh ho! You and I and a bottle of wine? Have you been reading Tío's romantic poetry again, beloved?" Mano chuckled. "Very well, let us take a nice slow ride along the river and we shall enjoy the beauty of nature…. and each other." His mobile lips stretched into a smile and his cheeks dimpled, but no hint of white teeth showed. Carmen gave in to her impulse and kissed those lips, which led to other things of a most pleasant nature as he reached for her.

"Have you latched the door, beloved?" she pulled back.

"Oh, yes," he answered. "Always."

* * *

Some hours later, Mano and Carmen, riding Macadoo and the black mare Regina, which she loved, entered the glade. Mano stopped Mac and stared at what seemed an other-worldly, magical place...a grassy circle bordered by the bubbling stream and surrounded by oaks, elms and willows. To a child it might appear as something from a fairy tale, lacking only the castle. For adults, it spoke of perfect isolation.

"Manolo, this glade and the stream marked the border of my family's property when we owned it. I often came here as a niña. Our former hacienda is but a half hour's ride northeast. Delgado and his family live there now," Carmen said as they walked their horses toward a massive and welcoming oak tree.

"Oh?"

"Yes. Antonio deeded it to him along with 50 acres after his parents died. I agreed. Delgado had grown up with Señor Navarro. He has managed the rancho well since Antonio also died."

"A good idea, to keep him here and with a vested interest."

"Yes. It seemed the least we could do. He also draws a salary."

"And soon he will receive percentages of our expanded sales as well. Do not worry. Delgado will be treated well."

"I do not worry about business," she smiled as they dismounted and loosened the cinches, then tied their horses in the shade of the oak, whose ancient branches hung down and formed a natural picket line. Mano retrieved a couple of burlap sacks from his saddle bags, while Carmen unrolled a pretty woollen blanket as a rug. Moving the sacks to one hand, Mano offered Carmen his other arm to guide her to the blanket. He settled beside her, placing the sacks between them.

"Did Antonio and you often come here?"

"No. We rode through the glade on occasion. We never took time to stop as I had when I was young. When I was a girl and the Apaches were not active, I would come here alone. I would sit under this oak tree or sometimes climb up into it. I would dream," she gave a wistful smile, then turned her attention to practical matters. "Glasses, mi vida," she said as she unpacked two. "And something else," she unwrapped a package and removed what looked like cake. Mano could not be sure. He unpacked the wine and inserted the corkscrew he had only just remembered before they set out from the rancho.

"What is that?" Mano asked, lifting his chin in the direction of the cake as he twisted the corkscrew.

"It is an old recipe, but one I think you will enjoy, querido. A fruit cake with added chocolate. Oh, and with much rum to preserve it."

"Chocolate? I thought one only kept chocolate to melt into hot milk."

"Mano, there are many uses for chocolate, and as an addition to cake… well, you shall see. Here." She broke off a small piece and extended her hand. Mano dipped his head, caught her fingers with one hand and guided the entire piece of cake into his mouth.

"Greedy!" she chuckled as he chewed on the cake, a look of surprise and wonder on his face.

"Ay Bendita! What flavor! Que rico!"

Carmen laughed, but her fingertips where he had placed his lips just a moment before now tingled. Her eyes caught his and the air sizzled between them as her breath quickened, as did his. Cake and wine forgotten, they came together in a kiss of deep passion.

Mano was the first to pull away. "We had better drink our wine, querida, or it will be wasted and that would be a shame." As he said this, his expression showed how little he really cared about the waste. They sat and sipped the wine, a fine sweet muscatel that complemented the rich fruit cake. He reclined and rested his head in her lap, allowing her to feed him small bites of cake as he did the same for her. They smiled when either bit into the deep rich chocolate nuggets which they allowed to melt in their mouths before swallowing. Mano remembered such delicacies from his time in France, but that had been long ago. The late afternoon passed in pleasure, with overall very little cake eaten and not much wine drunk. The couple did not seem to care. Entranced with each other and together in sheer solitude, they remained hidden from prying eyes by the magical glade. They felt free and separate from the rest of the world, although the hacienda was but an hour away and Delgado's home even closer. Their actions were discreet and circumspect, although they were both tempted to disregard all caution. They were not the only two on the planet but it felt as if they were...rather like Adam and Eve in the unspoiled garden, this the start of their new life.

"I would like very much to make love to you right now," Mano whispered after one lengthy chocolatey kiss.

"I would have no objection, querido."

"I think perhaps, not. I think perhaps we must wait," he smiled. "Someone might happen upon us…"

"True," she said, kissing him.

"Querida, it seems as though our luna de miel is now and truly occurring," he said as he sat upright and pulled her against him, reflecting that the rest of their adventure in Hermosillo had given them little time to focus on each other. There had been beautiful moments, but, he thought, on this afternoon I see Carmen as never before. Dios mío, she is the most glorious woman in the world and I do not deserve her nor do I deserve to be this happy. He could set that to music, he had said it or thought it so often.

"Where shall we live, Manolo?" she asked after a few moments of silence, her voice half musing.

"Wherever you want, querida. A peón's adobe for all I care as long as you are there."

"Oh yes, I shall enjoy grinding masa, fetching your water, milking your cow, and bearing your children in a hovel. You know, Manolito, we are both much too spoiled for that."

"Yes. And I no longer can be just a ranch hand working for my brother-in-law. Not now that I have a wife and two, no, three ranchos...if you count Rancho Montoya, where Tío needs me, I think."

"Manolo, I think Rancho Montoya must be our home but we must also come to Rancho Navarro many times each year."

"And we must also go to Arizona on occasion."

"Oh yes. I would like that very much, beloved." They kissed again and grew silent, their hearts full, excited, anticipating what life would bring, whatever it might be.

"You know, I have always dreaded the idea of becoming the patrón of Rancho Montoya. It seemed a death sentence. But now," he kissed her. "Now I believe I will manage as long as I have you," he paused. "And as long as Tío lives to a ripe old age." Carmen would make the difference, he knew. She would warm his home, fill his heart, help him to make decisions...she had the moral compass of his sister, a recognition of what was right that he sometimes lacked or found convenient to ignore. Ay yi yi, what a woman.

"I know one thing, Manolo."

"And what is that?"

"I think we will have many children. Eventually."

"Well, I for one, would like to try," he chuckled. The sun dipped below the horizon, bathing the glade in a deep golden hue. "We must go, querida," Mano said. "It will be dark before we get to the main corral."

"I don't care, beloved," Carmen said. "It was worth every effort to be alone with you, my handsome husband." How I love him, she thought. I never thought I would feel this way again.

* * *

The hour's ride passed before they knew it, the sun's golden rays giving way to reds and blues and at last, darkness as they reached the Navarro stables. They put away their horses themselves rather than waking the poor stable boys. Then, holding hands, they walked back into the house.

"Thank you, dearest one," Carmen whispered.

"Whatever for?"

"For letting us truly be together."

Mano smiled for he knew what she meant. Such a short time away from business, other people, life...and yet this time had been somehow more precious than even their wedding night. They had shut out the rest of the world, as if it did not exist. He held her hand as they walked into the hacienda.

* * *

"Hey, Mano there you iz!" Buck, perched in a leather chair near the entryway, hollered in a tone much too loud for Mano's ears. Nevertheless, the caballero smiled. His gran amigo did not realize he had spoiled the mood.

"Here we are, Buck. Here we are. What did you want us for?"

"Oh, nuthin.' I was jes wonderin' where y'all had gone to."

"We were out riding, Buck, you know, spending time together. It's what newlyweds tend to do." Mano nudged his friend on the arm and smiled, so Buck would realize his comments were not meant to be critical.

"I know'd that!" Buck's grin split his leathery face. He pushed himself out of the chair and joined Mano and Carmen as they headed into the main salón. Carmen pulled the bell rope near the door as they passed.

"Señora, you wish for something?" an elderly servant inquired with a small bow.

"Ah, Felipe. Yes, please could you bring us all some coffee? What time will the evening meal be served?"

"Dinner will be in one hour, señora. Shall I send the maid with bath water?"

"Please. After our coffee though." Carmen smiled as Felipe hurried away.

It would be many hours till Mano and Carmen again found themselves alone in their chambers, but the magic of the afternoon had not departed. They sank into bed, wrapped in each other's arms. Eventually they fell asleep. Never had either felt so much in love.

 _VKS & MJRod pay tribute to the actors, creator, and writers of "The High Chaparral" with our season 4 continuation. We do claim the creation of Carmen, although we borrowed her name from a David Dortort script proposal. Delgado and the entirety of Rancho Navarro are our creations as well._


	8. Chapter 8

**Rancho Navarro Chapter Eight: To Cajeme**

Sunday dawned and Carmen dragged Buck and Mano to church with her in Cajeme. "You promised the padre, Manolo. Come join us, Buck. You like church."

"I shore do, Missy Carmen, But all that up and down confuses me somethin' terrible."

"Follow Manolo then. Kneel when he kneels, Rise when he rises," she said, looking at her husband, his mouth unsmiling. "Better yet, follow me," she laughed as they drove to Cajeme in a Navarro carriage. After mass, Carmen's countenance shone as she enjoyed introducing her new husband and his brother-in-law to the priest and townspeople she knew. She saw the eyes of more than one young woman stray to Manolito, but to her satisfaction, he did not even look at them. Still, she kept her arm in his the entire time they were in Cajeme and even as they drove out of the city gates. He grinned. He had noticed the other women but had not allowed himself to look. Why should he? With this most perfect of creatures beside him, he had no need to look elsewhere. He enjoyed the fact that she might be a little jealous, however. That much he did enjoy. Buck knew what he was thinking and caught him once when Carmen was distracted.

"You ain't no stallion with a herd o mares no more, are you?"

"No, Buck, I am not. I am most happily not."

Yup, Buck thought. Mebbe somethin' to this marrying after all. Never seen Mano so happy.

* * *

The next day and a half passed in discussions with Delgado, closer examination of the iron and pine floor manger feeders, inspection of the stables, and consideration of Delgado's many innovations. "I tell you right now, Mano. We got a long way to go in Casa Cueva an' at the Chaparral to beat all this," Buck admitted. Buck, Mano, and Carmen also rode the extent of Carmen's property.

" _Our_ property, mi vida," she insisted.

"All right. Our property," Mano agreed, although it seemed unfair to him that he should benefit from the deaths of the Navarros. Well, if the Montoya Navarro horses were a success, this would at least preserve the memory of the family. He and Delgado made plans for Toronado and settled on the 20 percent of all sales that he and Buck paid their partners for their efforts. In all, the time passed in busyness and work.

Tuesday just before sunrise, Buck Cannon had an itch he couldn't seem to scratch. At breakfast, he voiced what Mano had expected him to say. "Mano, I don't know if it's a good idea fer me to go with you to Cajeme fer them saddles. I jes don't."

"Why not, hombre? This is why you have waited."

"But Charly, what if she don't wanna see me?"

"Then you will know, hombre. It is better to know."

"Buck, permiso," Carmen jumped in. "I am a woman. I know these things. Señorita Charly, she will want to see you."

"Aw right, Missy Carmen. I take your word fer it."

They finished coffee, eggs, cheese, and hard rolls. Mano kissed Carmen goodbye. She did not feel like making the trip and had many things to do at the hacienda. She also felt that perhaps her husband should spend some time with Buck. She would have Mano far more than he would in the future. As she waved goodbye to the men, she called out. "Señorita Charly is always welcome at Rancho Navarro, Buck!" To this, the black suited man tipped his hat and kicked Rebel into a gentle lope to catch up with Mano on Macadoo.

* * *

Ay chihuahua! Mano thought, my compadre is going to make this day very long until he sees Charly Converse. Buck did not crack a smile or say one word the whole ten miles to the freight office in Cajeme, despite Mano's occasional efforts to strike up a conversation. They reached the office in record time, tied their horses to the hitching posts, and walked inside.

"Buenos días señores! En qué puedo ayudarles?" the man behind the counter exclaimed.

"Buenos días! Tell me, señor…?"

"Fernandez."

"Señor Fernandez, at what time do you expect the freight wagon?" Mano asked with an amiable smile.

"Es que...that is to say, usually she gets here around this time. Today she must have hit a little snag on the road, because..." and he lifted his empty hands, raised his eyebrows, and shrugged his shoulders.

"Whut's that? She ain't heah? Where is she? Whut's happened?"

"Buck, calma hombre, calma. There is no need for such excitement. I expect that she has had a little trouble with one of her horses, or a wheel. Who knows, amigo? There is nothing to be alarmed about. Right, Señor Fernandez?"

"Sí! Es verdad! Nothing serious I'm sure," Fernandez replied without hesitation. "Ah, can I offer you some coffee while you wait, señores?" He lifted the coffee pot and gestured to an assortment of tin mugs on the counter.

"Gracias. Let us have a cup of coffee and wait a little while, Buck. I am sure Charly will be here soon."

Buck skinned his eyes at Mano in skepticism and grabbed one of the cups, holding it out for the clerk to fill for him. He took a noisy slurp yet still said nothing. Mano shrugged and waited for his own cup to be filled before taking a drink and grimacing. The clerk and Buck could use some lessons in the making of coffee. They carried their coffee outside where they settled on two upturned crates under the shade of the porch overhang. They gazed up the street in the direction they had come. Buck also looked down the street as well. "Jest in case," he responded to Mano's puzzled look. Buck checked the genuine imitation gold pocket watch he had purchased two years before in Tucson. One hour threatened to turn into two. As Buck paced the boardwalk, Mano slipped back inside to question Fernandez in more detail.

"No señor. Señorita Converse has never been this late. Most of the time she is early. Never have I known her to be more than ten minutes past her promised time of arrival," Fernandez replied. This was enough for Mano. He returned to Buck, approaching him with all the calmness and confidence he could muster to mask his own disquiet.

"Hey, Buck, why don't we take a ride up the trail and see if we can meet her? Maybe she has a broken axle or something, eh?"

"Let's do it. Mano, I cain't sit here no longer."

* * *

With that, they mounted and rode out of town toward Hermosillo, her last pick up for this run, Fernandez informed them. They rode at a brisk lope, not quite a gallop, and covered many miles without seeing any sign of the wagon. All at once, Mano spotted something.

"Mira! Buck, up ahead!"

"It's a wagon!" Buck kicked Rebel into a flat out gallop which Mano was hard pressed to match, even on Mac. An overturned wagon came into view. There were no signs of any horses. Trunks and boxes, some broken, their contents spilled out, littered the ground and the road. Buck dismounted and picked through the wreckage, looking for signs of life. As Mano joined him, a groan sounded from a patch of heavy brush across the road. Buck half pivoted in place, concentrating, till he heard the noise again and ran in the direction of the sound. He crashed into the brush, almost tripping over a body lying on the ground. Charly lay prone, one arm wedged behind her at an odd angle.

"Charly, honey!" Buck knelt down, scooping up her face in his gloved hands. "Charly! Charly, answer me, honey!"

"Oh, my head hurts." She moved her free arm to her forehead and twisted her head from side to side as if popping her neck. "Ow, my arm hurts worse. What happened?"

"We dunno. It don't matter. You're alive." The woman squinted as her eyes focused on the face swimming before them.

"Who's that? Izzat you, Buck?"

"Course it is!" Buck laughed, looking into her eyes, now fixed on his face. "How you doin,' Charly? I think yore arm's busted. Yore legs look aw right. Do they feel funny?"

Charly tried moving her knees and feet and they seemed to work without causing discomfort, but when she tried to move her arms, a sharp pain shot through her as if she'd been stabbed. She cried out and then retched, throwing up on Buck's shirt. Mano, who stood beside his kneeling friend, stepped back as Buck frowned and looked up. "Hep me, Mano."

"You may not borrow my shirt, hombre. No! Nunca! Ninguna vez!"

Buck laughed. "I don't want yore purty shirt, Mano. But I got some clean long johns in my saddlebags. If you could git 'em for me, I'd be obliged, S'nor Montoya."

Mano rushed to Rebel and rummaged through the saddlebags for the undergarments in question, lifting them out with his fingertips. They seemed clean, but with Buck one could never be sure, so he held them at arm's length until he handed them to Buck. He also carried a canteen which he had swiped from Buck's saddle at the same time.

"Thanks, amigo. Now could I trouble you fer some water? I'd like to git Charly cleaned up a bit and git that terrible taste outta her mouth."

Charly by now gazed up at Buck, a small wistful smile on her smudged face half covered by a shock of blonde hair. "Am I dreamin'? Is it really you, Buck?"

"It is really Buck, Charly," Mano confided. Her smile broadened but she said nothing else.

Buck wiped her mouth with a bandana he retrieved from his pocket. He lifted the canteen to her lips and gave her a small swig of water. Then, cradling her back with one of his arms he pulled her up off the ground toward him in one swift movement. Her left arm dangled at her side. "Ow, gosh amighty, Buck, that's pure pulsatin' pain!"

"Charly, I don't think yore arm is busted. May be dislocated." Turning to his friend, Buck indicated Charly's shoulder with his eyes and a movement of his chin. "Hey, Mano, looks like a dislocation, don't it?"

"Let me see. Hmm. Well, could be. Do you want me to feel all along her arm to see if there is a break?"

Buck glared at his friend and said in a tone somewhat harsher than he intended, "No! Er, if you kin, prop Charly up. You know, support her back. I'll take a look." And that is what they did. Mano knelt behind Charly, bracing her, while Buck probed with as light a touch as he could. "Ain't no breaks I kin feel, Charly. If Mano holds you steady, you think you can stand it if I pop yore shoulder back in?"

Charly gritted her teeth and nodded her head in assent.

Buck took hold of her arm at the wrist, pulled down slightly and pushed the shoulder back up all in one quick, firm movement that ended in a satisfying pop. Charly fainted, but now her arm looked normal. A little swollen, but no longer hanging limp and useless.

"Compadre, well done!" Mano complimented him but did not move. With Charly now dead weight against him, he asked Buck, "Do you think we could allow her to lie on the ground until she wakes?"

"Shore, I think so." Buck helped Mano to lower Charly's head and shoulders, rolling up his long johns as a pillow with which he cradled her head with its mane of thick blonde hair. He brushed the hair from her face. She looks so helpless and so purty. How'd I ever let her go? he mused, settling himself beside her after removing his leather vest and pulling off his soiled shirt. He used the wadded up shirt to wipe off the vest, then donned the black leather again over pink long johns while setting aside the black shirt to be stuffed in his saddlebags. Mano watched but did not offer to help with this process.

Some minutes later, Charly came to. "Buck? Buck, are you still here?" she rasped.

"I'm here, Charly," he replied as she moved her head to her right to look at him full in the face. "Don't you move yet. You lie still till the feeling comes back proper," Buck instructed.

"What d'you mean, feelin' comes back?" Charly asked as she moved her left arm. "Ow, tarnation! That do ache."

"That's whut I mean." Buck chuckled. "Don't worry. Yore arm was only dislocated and Mano an' me done fixed it all up. It'll be fine, but you need to take it easy. No quick moves and no carrying stuff. Unnerstan'?"

"Okay, Buck.." She regarded him with wide eyes. "Hey, what're y'all doing here anyways?"

"We was waiting on you in Cajeme. When you never showed up, we natcherly had to find out why."

"Natcherly," she echoed, pulling herself to a sitting position.

"Sí. The clerk, Señor Fernandez, he told us that you were never late. This concerned us so we came to look for you. What happened?" Mano indicated the wreckage lying all around with a sweep of his arm.

"Them two traitorous twisted trail hounds I hired! They musta made some kinda arrangement in Hermosillo, leastways that's how I figger it. They kept making excuses for why the horses couldn't go no faster. It was the wheel, the axle, the wagon bed, all sortsa reasons. Then someone rode up slicker than a slimy snake and pointed his pistol right at ma head."

"Didya know him?" Buck inquired.

"Nah, but I seen him hanging round the freight office, so I reckernized him right off. He was tall, thin and wore a greasy looking long mustache. Oily he was, downright oily!"

After some minutes of questioning by Buck and explanations by Charly, they concluded that the two men she had hired the day Mano and Carmen had met her in Hermosillo seem to have been plotting to steal her cargo, when she had a haul worth stealing. They had an accomplice, another Mexican...the fellow with the long mustache.

"He come ridin' out from behind that big rock there," Charly pointed. "The driver stopped the wagon. I didn't think much of it then. But that greasy man's pistol was pretty persuasive. I'll tellya whut surprised me though. They knew jest whut to look for. I thought only me an' the freight clerk in Hermosillo knew that. Course they took them fine saddles. Fetch a purty penny, they will. But those gol derned galoots also knew to pull out a trunk an' go through it for some cases with jewels in 'em. They was hidden. The man an' wife thought it would be safer to ship 'em with me than to carry them with 'em on the stagecoach. Him an' his wife was going on to Guaymas. They'd hid the boxes real good inside. You had to know they was there to even know what trunk to look into."

"How could they know, Charly?" Buck asked.

"I jest don't see how they coulda know'd that! I mean, that'd take information from the clerk or them listening to my conversation with that hombre shipping the trunk, wouldn't it?"

"Por supuesto! Certainly, Charly, it would. But you said you saw this tall man in Hermosillo at the freight office?"

"Shore, Mano, I seen him. Outside the office. But not when I was talking to the fella what was sending the trunk. An' not when I was checking the list of freight with the clerk a little later on. How'd he find out?"

"I 'spect one of yore men there was s'posed to listen good whenever you was talkin'. I bet he was watchin' you close all the time. They's bad men. Mala gente."

"Claro que sí," Mano agreed.

"Charly, honey, if yore rested a bit, could we maybe try riding into Cajeme and get you to the doctor?"

"I don't need no doctor, Buck. I'm fine!"

"Señorita Charly, I never like to contradict a lady, but you do need to have a doctor check your arm and your head. You were unconscious when we arrived and you may have an injury not yet apparent. Someone needs to watch you closely. Por favor."

"Okay, if y'all say so. Then I guess we better git goin'," Charly grumbled. She pulled herself upright, wobbly but managing with Buck's help. Leaning on Buck, she ambled over to the horses, realizing as she did that she would have to ride double.

Buck mounted up and Mano helped Charly climb up behind his friend. She clung to his back, her arms tight around his waist, but Buck didn't complain. Mano would later swear he saw a sly grin cross his amigo's face, soon replaced by a deadpan poker expression. Mano eased himself up into the saddle and they set off at a walk.

"We gonna take her easy goin' back to town," Buck said. "Cain't risk jostlin' her no more."

"Oh yes, much better for Charly's health," Mano affirmed, slitting his eyes at Buck, well aware that his friend had additional reasons for the slowness of their progress.

* * *

"Doc, is she gonna be awright?" Buck asked the physician who had been summoned to the hotel in Cajeme.

"Señor, she is a strong, healthy woman. True, she has suffered some injuries, but nothing that will not heal with time. I can see no signs that would make me think she has any internal injuries, but because she was unconscious and has lost the contents of her stomach, I would like her to stay close by so that I may check on her over the course of the next day or two. If she could remain in this hotel, possibly?

"Sí, no hay problema. I am certain that will work and then you may visit her whenever you are passing."

"Ho-tel!" Charly's indignation flared very loud, Mano thought, much louder than necessary.

"Charly, honey, for me, please won't you stay put right here fer just a day or so?"

"Aw, Buck, do I haveta?"

"I think so, purty lady, I think so." Buck smiled and brushed her hair off her face again. He liked doing it and Charly voiced no objections.

"It is settled then?" Mano asked. "You will stay here at the hotel. Buck and I will see whether we can track down these banditos, yes?"

"Man-o, I will stay here for one day." Charly held up her forefinger "Uno. But then you'd better git me someplace else to stay, 'cuz I cain't afford no ho-tel fer long." It amused Mano that she and Buck pronounced _hotel_ in the same way, but he stifled his smile and nodded in agreement. He had already paid for both hotel room and doctor, but he did not want Charly to realize this just yet.

"Bueno. We will leave you in the capable hands of el doctor and Buck and I will see you soon." Mano grinned as he left the room with the physician, while Buck lingered at Charly's bedside.

"Please stay here, Charly, for me? Take it easy and feel better. I want to see you smilin' and sassin' like always when I git back." He leaned over and kissed her on the lips and their breath mingled in a sigh. He turned on his heel and scooted out of the room. "You wait till I catch up with you, you skunks," Buck muttered, scowling. "You won't be in one piece when you reach Glory!" He paused at the front desk and caught the tail end of a conversation Mano was having with the clerk, picking up on the words "la Señora" and "Rancho Navarro" in a flurry of Spanish. Must be somethin' to do with lettin' Carmen know where we's goin'. Buck grinned. That li'l gal had broke her stallion real quick, he chuckled to himself.

* * *

"If we ride over to the livery stables, we can collect some supplies, as I do not think we will find these…these…" Mano said, turning to his friend.

"Skunks!" Buck supplied

"Sí, skunks, before nightfall. We must trail them and who knows how far."

"To hell, if we haveta," Buck muttered, his mouth a grim line.

Mano raised an eyebrow but said nothing further as they made for the stables, arranging things as he had suggested. In less time than he thought possible, even allowing a few minutes for Buck to pull on a fresh shirt, they were retracing the trail to the wrecked wagon at a fast lope, stopping only when they could see the boxes scattered around.

"Compadre, if we are to trail them, now we must take time and trouble to read the signs properly, no?" Buck only wagged his head, which Mano took for agreement. "Bueno, then we must dismount and walk slowly all around this site until we come across their tracks. The team has gone, probably taken as riding horses, unless the stranger brought some horses and concealed them. If you take that side, I will take this one." Mano left Mac ground tied while he peered at the ground, walking counterclockwise around the perimeter.

Buck paused to study the ground around the big rock Charly had indicated. He moved at a snail's pace, spying every broken twig and disturbed pebble. At the rock he squatted to peer at the ground. Harder to read sign here, he acknowledged. Ain't so much loose sand nor soil neither. But they's gotta be somethin' here….There was.

"Mano, over here!"

Mano circled around at a run, careful not to disturb the center of the site in case they had to check that as well. "Qué pasa?"

"Lookee there!"

"Ah, the hoofprints of three shod horses. Excelente! Now we can begin tracking."

It still took time. The indentations made by the hooves of the three horses where they had stood for some time, tethered and waiting, were clear enough, but had to be deciphered. Some loose sand was piled on the side of the rock that was most shielded from the road, and here the hoofprints were clear. The rest of the ground was hard with a smooth rocky surface requiring the men to look for the little white scars in the slab made when a metal shoe scuffed against the ground. Not easy and not quick.

Buck and Mano, experienced trackers both, at last worked out the story. The mustachioed Mexican had arrived earlier than the wagon and he had brought two extra horses with him. The horses had been ground tied or more likely tied to a rock when the Mexican had gone around to hold up Charly. The men had taken some time to break open the boxes, securing what they wanted. "I suspect one of them knocked her out, compadre," Mano said. "Tossed her out of the wagon."

"Lessen she hit her head after they throwed her out. They'd a hadta hit her to keep her quiet," Buck opined. Charly had not mentioned being hit, but she could not account for all the destruction and that would seem the most likely explanation. "Guess they overturned the wagon jes outta meanness."

"Sí, and once they had the crates with the saddles in them, they needed some way to transport them for sale. They probably used the wagon team, suspending the crates from their harnesses. You know what this means, compadre. They can neither travel very fast nor very far. These heavier horses are not designed for speed but for pulling."

"Yeah. Oughta be easy to follow them big hoofprints once we find 'em. I'm thinkin' let's head back up to Hermo-sillo. Bet we gonna pick up that trail purty quick." Buck and Mano remounted, heading north, riding a small distance apart...following a broken mesquite branch here, a pile of fresh horse droppings there, covering ground with speed and accuracy.

"Yup, they's heading to Hermo-sillo all right," Buck said. "But kinda takin' a roundabout way, ain't they?"

"Sí, this is certainly not the main trail. Probably why they did not take the wagon," Mano agreed, stopping before a bubbling creek. "Mira this spring, Buck. I think they stopped here to water the horses." Buck dismounted and joined his friend as the sun slipped below the horizon.

"Yup. I think yore right."

"Amigo, we are not going to catch up to them before it is quite dark. Let us stay here for some hours, refresh ourselves and our horses. It will be useless to try to follow in the dark, and if we kill Mac and Rebel, what then? Besides, I do not wish to ride into Hermosillo in the middle of the night. Safer by day. A man can see."

"Aw, Mano, I know'd it. I jest don't like the thought of them hombres riding free after whut they done to Charly," Buck responded, adding a question: "Cold camp?''

"Sí," Mano agreed and they ate a few bites of jerky and drank from their canteens, which they refilled at the stream.

"One thing I don't unnerstan'," Buck said as they climbed into bedrolls for a short sleep.

"And that is?"

"How could ol' Fargo have let her take on those sidewinders?"

"Oh, Charly did not tell you?" Mano asked. "Señor Fargo, he is dead. I'm sorry, Buck."

"Dead? Well, at least that explains it. How'd he die, Mano?"

"Charly said he just did not wake up one morning, about a month ago."

"Shore 'nuff. Well, I'll be. Ol' Fargo lived through Indian wars an' the Mexican War an' it all comes down to that," Buck mused. "Well, I guess we all gotta go sometime."

"We do. But how you go, compadre, and who surrounds you when you die, that is a thing worth considering."

"Yeah, it is, Mano," Buck agreed. "But fer now, I'm jes gonna catch me a little shut eye." And that they did, waking just before dawn to chance a small fire for some coffee and chewing on some hard tack. With the first fingers of light, they hit the trail again.

 _VKS & MJRod pay tribute to the actors, creator, and writers of "The High Chaparral" with our season 4 continuation. We do claim the creation of Carmen, although we borrowed her name from a David Dortort script proposal. Delgado and the entirety of Rancho Navarro are our creations as well._


	9. Chapter 9

**Rancho Navarro Chapter Nine: On to Hermosillo**

Within a few hours, the city gates of Hermosillo loomed ahead, white and grand in the midmorning sun. As the trackers neared the boulevards and calles of the city, Mano suggested they slow down and try to look like visitors. Buck looked at him sideways but said nothing while Mano made casual conversation with townsfolk who might have been up and about at an early hour. They dismounted and walked their horses while Mano rattled on in smiling Spanish to cab drivers and tradesmen, asking if anyone had seen three hombres leading two cart horses, perhaps with boxes packed on them. Buck heard the word "primo" more than once, which he knew to mean cousin. Figger Mano's askin' 'bout a cousin he's here to see. Good luck with that, amigo. But he needn't have doubted.

"Buck, they have come through here," Mano said, after speaking to a dark señorita in a bright orange dress selling flowers on the corner of El Calle Norte and La Avenida del Sol. He spoke without raising his voice, laboring to contain his excitement. His eyes flashed, revealing what his tone did not.

"When?"

"About half an hour ago."

"Anyone see which way?"

"Sí. Toward the Hotel Nacional."

"Where's 'at?"

"This way, compadre," the caballero replied, his smile wide and happy. "This way." They mounted up and walked their horses several blocks, passing the Plaza Nacional and cutting over to the street running behind the hotel, where tradesmen would come with deliveries. "I think we go around back, Buck. Two cart horses would not be welcome at the front entrance."

As they turned the corner around the wrought iron fence bordering the back of the hotel property, they saw Charly's team tied to a post, boxes strapped to them as if they were pack mules. Buck nudged Rebel forward, but Mano rasped, "No, amigo. Let us dismount and tie the horses here, at the hitching rail by this bodega. We can get nearer on foot."

* * *

Buck shrugged but did as Mano suggested. They crept inside the iron fence and walked through the back lot, approaching the service entrance of the hotel where they spied a doorway, its timbered door propped open, leading into a darkened hallway. They glanced at each other and Buck nodded, so they drew their pistols and entered. As their eyes adjusted to the gloom, they crept without noise along the short hall, Mano in front. They heard voices drifting out of an open door halfway down the corridor and froze, listening. A quick look behind revealed no one coming, so they continued on tiptoe, moving close to the door on the left from which the voices emerged. I know this voice, Mano thought. I have heard him before. Mano and Buck paused outside the door, straining to hear the men's words that issued from within.

"Señor, we did as you said, and we have crates outside with fine saddles that will fetch an excellent price. We deserve more than this small amount."

"You deserve nothing of the sort. You did not have the wit to keep the wagon in one piece nor to drive the team back to the freight office to report a hold-up. Nor did you kill the woman. Nor did you leave the team behind. No, you had to bring me saddles I cannot sell on a team I do not want, and you tie them outside this hotel where anyone can see them." The voice was angry, raised in displeasure.

"We have brought you jewels, señor!" a third voice whined.

"Sí, fine jewels worth much." complained a fourth.

"You imbeciles!" the angry voice almost shouted. "You have drawn attention to this hotel. This hotel is where I live. I do not want the police brought to my own front door. You will take your horses with these fine saddles and you will dispose of them. Do _not_ try to sell them. Do _not_ try to sell even the horses. Take them to the slaughterhouse on the edge of the city and have them disposed of, swiftly and with as little noise as possible. Throw the saddles into the river! Now go and I will call you again if I am able to sell the jewels and make any money at all. Idiotas! But before you do this, escuchame, you need to…."

At this, Mano turned and pushed Buck back the way they had come, whispering, "Vamonos." They ran on tiptoe, without noise, till they exited the hallway and found themselves again outside the service entrance. They paused to catch their breath. "Mira, Buck," Mano whispered again, indicating the cart horses still tied up outside where they saw a boy, wiry, gangly, and barefoot, standing beside the team, stroking the head of the larger animal.

"Let's go," Buck said. They moved to the cart horses.

"Muchacho!" Mano said. The boy looked up, wide eyed in alarm, shaking. "Calma, calma, no te preocupes, muchacho," Mano moved closer and said as the boy relaxed a little. "Tell me do you have some friends nearby, perhaps?" The boy nodded. "Could you fetch them at once and carry these boxes away for us? We will make it worth your while if this can be done in the next minute or two." Mano pulled out several pesos from his pocket and clinked them together in front of the boy.

"Amigos!" the boy shouted, letting out a piercing whistle. Four boys of around the same age arrived seconds later and only a minute had passed before Buck and Mano had cut the ropes attaching the crates to the horses. With Buck's help, boxes and boys disappeared into the nearby side street to which Mano led them, following his whispered instructions to hide out of sight for the next ten minutes and to wait for a signal. Mano and Buck then jogged back to their own horses, across the road from the service entrance to the hotel, where they pretended to be in conversation when the men came out to take away the pack animals.

"Brutos!" the largest man shouted. "Look what has happened. We have been robbed."

"I told you to post a guard, but no, you would have none of this!" a short, dark man yelled as the third man, tall with a moustache, shoved them both.

"Callate, perros," the tall Mexican ordered. "We can do nothing now but to remove this team." The two others grabbed the reins and led the cart horses away, passing along the street to the left of where Buck and Mano stood, their backs turned in apparent preoccupation with other matters. Once the men and team were out of sight, Mano ran down the street in the opposite direction, heading back the way they had approached the hotel at first and pausing at the side street where they had left the boys. A whistle and wave of his hand brought the five boys straggling out of an alley off that side street. They struggled to bring the heavy crates but, very much in awe of Mano and his pesos, dragged, shoved, and carried them to the corner.

"Bravo, muchachos. Now stay here until I return," Mano whispered. "Watch these crates. Bueno." He clapped the first boy on the shoulder. "You are not finished yet. I shall pay you in a moment. Do not leave." With that, Mano and Buck led their own horses around to the front of the Hotel Nacional, where Buck let out a long low whistle as he saw the stone fountain with its marble nymphs and the gleaming marble steps leading to the grand entrance.

* * *

"Please wait here, Buck," Mano said as they neared the foot of the marble steps, handing Buck the reins to Mac as he bounded up the steps, through the brass, wood and cut glass doors, to the front desk, where he asked for Señor Garza. The hotel manager appeared at once, a smile broadening his face as he recognized his visitor.

"Señor Montoya…" Garza began, but Mano interrupted him.

"May we please talk in your office? I have come on a matter of the utmost importance."

"Por supuesto." Puzzled, Garza gestured for Mano to follow him behind the front desk and into his small office where Mano explained the circumstances surrounding the theft of their saddles and their recovery. He asked if they might be allowed to store the saddles in a discreet place in the hotel stables, which he remembered were one block south, around the corner from where the boys waited with the crates.

"They must be hidden, Señor Garza. And also our horses. All must occur with absolute discretion," Mano instructed. "The fewer who know, the better." Garza remembered the generous tip he had received the last time Don Manolo had been a guest of the hotel and agreed, dispatching a bellhop to summon the stable master in haste.

"Don Manolo, you have only to ask. This hotel is always at your service."

"Gracias. And I will need a room, Señor Garza...preferably one with two beds." The manager nodded again and Mano, promising to return soon, headed outside to meet the stable master as he jogged onto the hotel grounds, the bellhop hard on his heels.

"Señor, I am the one you seek," Mano called. "Please follow me." Pausing to indicate Buck and their horses, he instructed the bellhop to take Reb and Mac to the stables, pressing some coins into the young man's hand. Seeing his friend's frown, Mano assured him, "It's all right, Buck. Let him take our horses. Come with me." Accompanied by the stable master, Mano and Buck headed back to the boys and crates while Mano explained the need for these items to be hidden. Was there such a place in the stables? Perhaps behind bales of hay or straw?

"Sí, señor."

"Bueno." He next turned to the boys, adding, "Muchachos, ven conmigo y traigan las cajas." The boys complied, two boys per crate while Buck and the stable master lifted one apiece themselves. All made for the stables where Mano and the first boy, having carried nothing, supervised the concealment of the crates. Mano paid the boys in pesos and tipped the stable master with a piece of silver. "There will be more when we pick them up, señor, ah?"

"Zuniga, señor."

"Gracias. Señor Zuniga, please look after our things."

* * *

Satisfied with the hiding places, Mano and Buck strode back to the hotel, up the marble steps, through the large glass and wooden doors into the lobby where Buck stopped cold just inside while Mano again approached the front desk to speak to Garza. Buck's eyes grew large as he surveyed the interior. Mighty fancy place. Marble, leather, shiny brass an' glass. Ain't seen nuthin like this since before Mano's weddin', he thought, whistling again under his breath. Almos' as fancy as Lola's, he mused...thus comparing the finest hotel in Hermosillo to the finest bordello in Mexico City.

"Whoowee, Mano, this heah's pretty fancy," Buck said in a low voice.

"Yes, it is. Buck. This is the hotel where Carmen and I stayed for our honeymoon. May I present the manager, Señor Garza?" Garza's expansive smile grew a little forced when he looked at Buck, but if this dusty gringo was a friend of Don Manolo, who was he to object?

"Yore honeymoon?" Buck exclaimed, sniggering, a reaction which caused the manager's lips to purse and eyes to widen. And why would Don Manolo stay elsewhere, he wondered? Buck recovered himself enough to say, "That's right nice, Mano, right nice...uh, how-do, Señor Garza?"

"Señor Garza, por favor, my friend and I have need of a change of clothes. There is perhaps a dry goods store where we may obtain some things while you arrange for these trail outfits to be cleaned?" A whistle from Garza and Pedrocito, the bellhop who had earlier led their horses to the stables, appeared. The boy eyed both Buck and Mano and shook his head in agreement to show he understood what was needed as Garza and Mano explained. "You will bring the clothes to our room along with the bill, sí?" Mano asked.

"Sí, señor," Pedrocito affirmed.

"Please have the maids send up bath water also, Señor Garza," Mano added. Garza bit the inside of his cheek to keep a straight face and ventured no opinion. Don Manolo's choice of traveling companion is a bit odd, he thought, especially after the beautiful señora, but who was he to comment?

"Don Manolo, will quarters on the lower level suffice for you and your friend? Then you may easily avail yourselves of the men's bathhouse around the corner."

"Oh yes, gracias."

* * *

"This is purty fancy, Mano, Buck said as they entered their room, carrying their saddlebags. "Looka them two beds an' the sheets and covers is real nice. I think I'll take me a siesta right here an' now."

"No, you will wait even to sit on that bed until the boy brings us some clean clothes and we take a bath."

"A bath? Why we need to take a bath? We kin jes wash up a little. Looka here. They's water in that pitcher right in there. Mano, I took a bath at Missy Carmen's ranch jus' the other day."

"Yes, you took a bath five days ago, amigo. We have been on the trail. You are dirty and, perdoname Buck, you smell. I probably do, too. The boy will bring fresh clothes and we will allow him to take these to be cleaned. You can just have him brush off your vest and return it, as I shall do with my jacket. Para esa mentira, Buck. I do not believe that you do not realize that you need a bath, hombre."

"Oh, aw right," Buck pulled the front of his shirt to his nose and took a whiff. "I guess this shirt is mighty ripe. Hey Mano, you think that boy'd take the shirt I got wadded up in my saddlebag here an' get it cleaned, too?"

"Oh, sure," Mano replied, grimacing and realizing he had better increase the tip he planned to give Pedrocito. "Of course, hombre. Now listen, I have to tell you something." As they waited for the boy to return, Mano explained that he had recognized the voice they had heard earlier from the hallway. "I believe it to be that of a man called Arreola. I, cómo se dice, crossed swords with him many moons ago. I cannot believe he is still alive, and what is worse, still working as a bandito. He can be most convincing, and this must be how he manages to stay at this hotel. Once we are clean and in respectable clothes, we can go back to the lobby and I will inquire about this man. What room he stays in. Whether he pays his bill. That kind of thing."

"That's a good idea, Mano. Lissen, I gotta sit down. If I cain't sit on that bed, where can I sit?"

"That wooden chair should do. Or try the floor," Mano replied, and they settled into an uneasy silence, thinking of what they might do. At last a knock at the door sounded and Mano opened it to admit Pedrocito carrying an assortment of shirts and trousers.

"I will return the ones you do not want, señores," the boy explained. "I have also brought fresh undergarments and socks, just in case."

"Bueno, Pedrocito. Well done," Mano exclaimed, selecting a gray shirt and silver studded trousers not unlike the ones he favored, holding them up to test for size. "These will do. Buck?"

Buck picked up black pants and a black shirt. "These'll work jes fine, boy. I kinda like these ruffles on the shirt. Nice an' fancy."

"I thought you might like black, señor."

"I shore do."

After applying a little saddle soap to Buck's vest and brushing Mano's jacket, Pedrocito bowed to the men. Laden with clothes to return to the dry goods store, the boy exited the room after stuffing into his pocket money to settle the clothing bill. He promised to return within an hour to collect their clothes to be cleaned..

"Here is something for your efforts now, and there will be more after you pick up and return our things once they are cleaned." Then, Mano knew, he would give Pedrocito another and a most generous tip. You will earn every peso of that, muchacho, Mano thought.

"Well, one good thing about the Rebs fightin' the Yankees. Uniforms. Standard size clothes has even made it to Hermo-sillo. Mano, do I really gotta take a bath?"

"Yes, Buck." The caballero glared at his friend and the two proceeded down the hall to the bathhouse where they saw what even to Mano was a remarkable innovation: a row of three toilets in doorless stalls with chain pulls that pumped in water and emptied the waste.

"I have heard of these things," Mano said to the bath attendant. "But never have I seen one, not even in Mexico City."

"Sí, señor. They are quite new. An innovation most remarkable."

"Estoy de acuerdo."

"Mano, this here is like a indoor privy, ain't it?"

"It sure is, Buck."

"I don't know if these things'll ever catch on, but I think I'll jes give it a try. A man could get used ta not havin' ta go outside in the middle o' the night."

* * *

Two hot baths and a few inspections of rudimentary indoor plumbing later, two clean shaven and well dressed hombres emerged from the bathhouse, stopping by their room to pick up gun belts and outerwear and leaving their filthy clothes in a pile where Pedrocito could find them. They next returned to the lobby where Mano once more asked for the manager. There he go agin, Buck observed, talkin' a lotta Spanish faster 'an a body kin follow.

"Muchísmas gracias," Mano said, inclining his head to Garza who bowed in return. "Let's go, Buck."

"What'd you find out?"

"Not here, hombre. Outside." Mano's face was grim, so Buck said nothing but followed his friend through the heavy doors, down the marble steps, and into the street where Mano paused, hands on his hips, glancing back up at the hotel, exhaling with a sigh before he spoke. "According to Garza, this man Arreola has been several months at the hotel. He is respectable, as far as Señor Garza is aware. He always pays his bill in full at the end of each month."

"Each _month_?" Buck's voice came a trifle too loud for Mano's taste.

"Sshh, hombre! Sí. He has been staying there for at least six months and settles his bill at month's end. Garza takes him for a wealthy businessman presently staying in Hermosillo on a matter of some importance."

"How d'you know he ain't jes that, S'nor Montoya?" Buck's brow furrowed as he spoke.

"Primero, we overheard him. But also, in my, eh, former days I used to know men of dubious character, if they were known to the banditos with whom I associated. Arreola was such a man. He often would take what had been stolen and turn it into hard cash very quickly. For some banditos that was better than trying to sell it themselves and perhaps being caught."

"Sometimes yore past can be mighty useful, amigo." Buck grinned.

"Sí. But I would not wish this widely known, especially now that I am married to Carmen," Mano said, his face sober, without a trace of humor. "She and her family know of my past, eh, indiscretions where women are concerned. And while I have hinted at having done bad things, I would rather she not know how many times I have, ah, walked a thin line between following and ignoring the law."

"Well, I think we all know how wild you was. You stole John's horse, fer goodness sake, when you first met him. I declare Mano, that was about the funniest thing I ever did hear. Big John without a horse. Ain't ever seen him that mad since."

Despite himself, Mano chuckled. "Sí, that was pretty funny." Then he turned serious again. "The thing is, hombre, I never crossed a line from which I could not return, entiendes? But I came pretty close. Carmen, she is the most important person in the world to me. I would rather she not…"

"Don't worry, amigo," Buck interrupted. "'Sides, I've done some purty bad things too an' run with some bad hombres like ol' Johnny Ringo."

"Johnny is amoral, not evil," Mano said. "Besides, he longs for death and one day someone will oblige him."

"Yeah, that he do. But I'm sayin' I done some stuff I ain't too proud of, too. Most ever-one has 'cept mebbe Big John an' Blue Boy. We was livin' in a lawless land, Mano. Sometimes a man don't get a whole lotta choice what he's gonna die for or what he's gonna haveta do to stay alive."

"Sí."

 _VKS & MJRod pay tribute to the actors, creator, and writers of "The High Chaparral" with our season 4 continuation. We do claim the creation of Carmen, although we borrowed her name from a David Dortort script proposal. Delgado and the entirety of Rancho Navarro are our creations as well._


	10. Chapter 10

**Rancho Navarro Chapter Ten: A Woman's Prerogative**

"Oh, Miz Montoya, this is jest about the purtiest bedroom I ever been in. Ev'rythin's so white an' soft, like goose down or chicken feathers," Charly Converse exclaimed as Carmen showed her to her guest room at Rancho Navarro. The morning after receiving word from her husband that he and Buck were tracking down Charly's rig, Carmen had arranged for a driver to take her to Cajeme where she learned from the doctor that la Señorita Converse could be moved. With that, Carmen gathered up Charly and brought her back to the rancho, refusing to take no for an answer. Now Charly stood gawking at her accommodations and glanced down at the tan men's britches and plaid shirt she wore. "I ain't dressed fit fer this place, ma'am." She shoved her cowboy hat back further on her head and wiped nervous sweat off her brow with the forearm that was not in a sling.

"Carmen. You will please call me Carmen, Charly. And you are dressed fine. However, I may have some things you could wear, if you prefer."

"Naw. You cain't make a silk purse out of a sow's ear, Carmen."

"You are not a sow's ear, Charly. You are a very pretty woman."

"Purty? Ha. Well, Buck did tell me I was pretty one time. An' he liked these clothes I'm wearin', too. Said they was what made me diff'ernt. That wuz after Miz Cannon-Victoria-gussied me all up in this real fancy dress, low in the front with all these ribbons an' ruffles. I hadta wear a corset and my, my, my, that was the tightest type o' torture you kin imagine. I could not eat a blamed thing."

"Corsets can be most uncomfortable. I do not wear mine very tight. Too restricting. And your clothes do make you, ah, different: I should have to agree with Buck there," Carmen chuckled. "Still, perhaps I have some things you can wear. You know, Charly, certain riding outfits are feminine but comfortable. Let me show you...here, in this trunk." Carmen opened a foot locker under the window and removed a brown jacket and split skirt. "Mira, this looks like a skirt but it is really more like trousers. Wear this with boots and you will look like a lady who can ride anything."

"Oooh. I ain't never seen such a thing. These ain't yours are they?"

"No, this outfit and the things in this trunk belonged to the mother of my first husband. She died several years ago. I gave away most of her things but some of her riding outfits and a few dresses I kept, to remember her, and because it made me sad to go through them. She was very kind and an excellent horsewoman. Look Charly, here are three riding outfits: tan, blue, brown. Please take them and try them on. She was about your size."

"Oh, I couldn't…"

"Of course you can. My mother-in-law would be so pleased if you would. She has some blouses in here as well to go with them. And even a few dresses. You will see...and you will make Buck Cannon see also."

"Whew, these is nice, real nice. Thank you, Miz Carmen. Thank you very much."

"But first, shall I have the servants draw a bath for you?"

"Oh yes. that'd be right nice."

"And your hair...it is so pretty. I shall help you style it later."

"All right. Jest don't make me look like somethin' I'm not." Carmen pursed her lips and wondered if that were even possible. Then she moved to another subject.

"Buck and you, you have known each other for quite some time? I neglected to ask Manolo to explain the whole story."

"Well, Carmen, Buck an' me, we was fixin' to get married. I was runnin' freight from Tucson to Nogales then, an' Buck knew ol' Fargo, my main driver. This skunk Pardee was tryin' to run me outta business, but Buck an' Mano an' Blue an' the Chaparral boys helped me outsmart that ornery cuss."

"Why did you not get married, Charly? What happened?"

"Oh Carmen, _I_ happened. I was jus' too usedta bein' on my own. We'd a butted heads and argued an' wound up hatin' each other. I was too bossy. I embarrassed him in front of the men."

"Manolo did say something about the fact that you, cómo se dice, that you could pack quite a punch. I think that is how he put it."

"Yeah, that's me. I ain't cut out for no cookin' nor keepin' house. I know freightin', whiskey, an' horses. If there's two things the Irish know, it's whiskey and horses."

"But Charly, my husband and Buck have a horse breeding business now. Perhaps you could help them?" Carmen exclaimed, then paused a moment before continuing. "Do you think you would be willing to give Buck another chance?"

"Carmen, I ain't thought of much else for nigh on two years. The thing is, I don't know if he'll give me another chance."

"And where is he now?"

"Trackin' down my team and the hombres that conked me on the head and stole my shipment."

"Buck would not do this if he did not care for you."

"Well, he did kiss me when he left me at the ho-tel…"

"Do you not see? The man loves you, Charly. You must give him another chance. What have you to lose?"

"How long you an' Mano bin married, Carmen?"

"Oh, almost one month now. And every day I love him more. I never thought I would feel this way about another man after my husband died. But I think of Manolo almost every minute he is away. I do wish they would return soon."

"I been missin' Buck for two years."

"Charly, you do not need to cook or keep house to make Buck happy."

"I don't?"

"No, just be by his side. Listen to him. Love him. As the horse business thrives, you can hire a housekeeper and a cook. He is not marrying a domestic. He wants to marry a partner."

"If he wants to marry at all."

"Well, I say that we get you in a bath...and into some of Señora Navarro's riding clothes. We do something with that hair of yours. We apply some of my cosmetics to your pretty face. Oh, Buck Cannon will want to marry you, all right. Of that I am sure."

"You know, I ain't never had no suitors, no gennelmen interested in me before," Charly said, then added after a pause. "I, uh, I ain't never been with a man."

"Oh, that is something you will discover can be quite pleasant," Carmen smiled. "Much more so than the nuns ever revealed to Catholic schoolgirls like us. Manolo is a gentle and considerate lover. In fact," she paused and her face reddened. She bit her top lip the slightest bit. "I think of him far more in that manner than I would have anticipated."

"Well, you is still on yore honey-moon, ain't ya? That's only nachural."

"I guess so," Carmen continued, regaining her composure. "But do not worry, Charly. You have to be willing and you must also inform Buck about what pleases you. Do not be afraid of this. A lo que vinímos. This is why we are here, Charly! And once he sees you looking like, forgive me, a woman...an attractive woman, he will not be able to resist. You will soon be Mrs. Buck Cannon. If you want to be."

"If I wanna be. Hmmm. I'm thinking mebbe I do, Carmen. But we'll jes see."

"Yes we will."

* * *

The day passed in bathing and trying on clothes. After a late lunch, Carmen called for the stable boys to saddle two fine mares and they rode about the property to pass the time. The next day, Delgado showed Charly the stables and barns. Her eyes grew wide at the horses and the equipment. Whoowee, this here's some operation, she thought. Her jaw dropped when she spotted Toronado, the finest stallion she had ever seen. She plied Delgado with endless questions. "La Señorita knows much," the foreman even commented. Her arm soon felt better and she discarded the sling. Carmen and she rode often.

Evenings they passed talking as women talk, but Charly also gave Carmen pointers on poker and blackjack. "You must play Tío Domingo sometime," Carmen laughed. The days waxed and waned, and the women worried. To alleviate the tension, Carmen and the cook tried to show Charly how to make a pie crust, but the lumpy dough and flour on the floor and walls soon convinced them all that la señorita truly had no talent in the kitchen. Still no word came from Mano and Buck. Carmen decided that when Manolo returned, she would make wild and passionate love to him and then she would kill him for making her worry so much.

 _VKS & MJRod pay tribute to the actors, creator, and writers of "The High Chaparral" with our season 4 continuation. We do claim the creation of Carmen, although we borrowed her name from a David Dortort script proposal. Delgado and the entirety of Rancho Navarro are our creations as well._


	11. Chapter 11

**Rancho Navarro Chapter Eleven: The Governor's Palace**

"But I don't unnerstan', Mano," Buck groused as he and Mano sat drinking coffee at two chairs in the back of the main salón of the Hotel Nacional one day later. From their vantage point, they could see both the front desk and entrance, but the shadows in their remote corner of the room concealed them.

"What don't you understand, Buck?"

"How come we'z stayin' here waitin' and waitin'. Whut're we waitin' for, exactly?"

"Buck, we are waiting for this man, Arreola, to leave the hotel so that we can follow him. We will then discover with whom he is dealing or from whom he is taking his orders, entiendes?"

"Huh?" Buck frowned.

Mano sighed and said no more. Sometimes his gran amigo was a little slow on the uptake, but once he had the idea fixed Buck was like a terrier with a bone. He would never let go. Just the sort of friend I need, Mano thought, to cover my back and stand at my side. He was glad for Buck's solid presence, but sometimes…. Mano started again reading the newspaper.

Buck frowned as a tall thin man with a long mustache came in the front door of the hotel. Peering at the newcomer, Buck nudged Mano, who, absorbed in the newspaper, flashed an irritated look until he turned his eyes where Buck was looking. Ah, one of the men who had carried out the robbery. Good. Things were starting to happen.

They had done enough waiting but their time had not been squandered.

The afternoon before they had grabbed a hansom cab which conveyed them to the slaughterhouse on the edge of town where they arrived just in time to rescue Charly's team. "We oughta at least give it a go, try to save 'em," Buck had said. "If we're too late, well, at least we give it a shot." The butcher had raised an eyebrow, but the weight of the pesos in his palm that Mano supplied proved sufficient to buy his silence. A man who worked for the butcher was paid to take the horses by a circuitous route to the stables of the Hotel Nacional, where provision would be made to house them in secret. While the man was seeing to this, Buck and Mano returned in the cab that had brought them and sought out Señor Zuniga at the stables to beg yet another favor.

"Ahora, I am low on funds, amigo," Mano had said, necessitating a visit to the bank to make a withdrawal. I am glad Tío now pays me an income and that it is deposited here, he thought, for this adventure is becoming costly. I imagine Buck will repay some of this when he has the chance, since it is for Charly that we are doing these things. And more cash will likely be needed before we can retrieve the jewels and consign Arreola to prison. Well, it is only money. No importa. Mano's tastes were refined but not extravagant. He had never worried about money...he had never had to...and he assumed these current circumstances would be resolved without too much loss. Somehow he would come out all right. He always did, as people do who are raised around money, even if they do not have a great deal of it themselves.

Now, the mustachioed Mexican walked toward the downstairs room occupied by Arreola. Mano knew this because the manager Garza had left open the guest registry where Mano could see and he had sneaked a peek the day before and had discovered Arreola's suite to be down the hall from the bathhouse. Hmmm, the meeting Buck and he had overheard the previous day must have occurred in some sort of storeroom off the service entrance. Now this hombre is going right to Arreola's room. Familiarity. Buck and Mano watched him but did not leave their seats. When Mano heard voices approaching a few minutes later, he raised his newspaper to cover his face. Buck watched Arreola and the oily stranger slip out the hotel door and turn left. As soon as the heavy glass and wood doors closed behind the men, Buck prodded Mano in the arm and said, "Our pigeons is flyin' the coop. Let's go."

"Most interesting," Mano said as he and Buck tailed the two, keeping well back, staying concealed amongst the many people scurrying here and there. "They are headed for the governor's palace." As the men approached a row of offices at the side of the governor's mansion, the other pedestrians thinned out, and Buck and Mano hung further back, watching.

"Buck, they are going into the farthest office down there. If we could find out whose office it is, that might tell us a few things. It is a pity we cannot get near enough to listen at the door, but I think we would be noticed standing on the street."

"Now, Mano, maybe if we could look like tourists?"

"Buck, you might look like a tourist, but I….." and he gestured to his face.

"Oh yeah, I guess that won't work."

"I have an idea, amigo. Come let's go back to the hotel. Vamonos. Andale." Grabbing Buck, Mano swiveled them both around to retrace their steps at a brisk walk. They bounded up the marble steps of the Hotel Nacional and Mano made for the front desk where he nodded to the clerk, asked for pen and paper, and requested the presence of the manager. Within a minute, Garza had emerged from his office and stood at Mano's right elbow as the caballero finished writing. The manager raised his eyebrows in expectation as Mano turned to him, handing him a folded note. "Señor Garza I need your most trusted young man to take this note to the governor. Only the governor himself is to open it, do you understand?"

The manager bowed and took the paper from Mano, concealing it in his inside jacket pocket and walking behind the front desk where Buck watched him ring a bell.

"Can he be trusted?"

"I think so, Buck. I believe so. We shall see."

"Whut do you think the governor's gonna do when he gets your note?"

"Well, he will not share the contents with anyone, primero. Segundo, he will get his trusted right-hand man to do some digging and then we shall see. Still we must wait. Wait and see."

"Waitin' agin? Cain't we find a poker game or somep'n?"

"No, Buck. We cannot visit gambling halls or saloons or bordellos," Mano replied, thinking, as if I need a bordello. "We are respectable businessmen in town on business. Besides, the truth is, I need to keep a, how do you say, a low profile."

"Why?"

"When Carmen and I were here for our honeymoon, I...interfered with a robbery and I may have made some people angry. Tío advised me to steer clear of Hermosillo till the dust settles."

"Why didn't you tell me this, S'nor Montoya, before we come here? Guess that's how you got that knock on the head, ain't it? To think I figgered Missy Carmen give it to you."

"Ah ha ha. Very funny. Anyway, Buck, we must wait."

"I s'pose so." Buck slumped into the chair in their room and propped his chin on his hand. Waiting had never been his strong suit. As it turned out they didn't have to wait long. Early that afternoon, Mano received an elegant parchment letter addressed to him and bearing the seal of the governor. Breaking open the missive, he read and nodded, then turned to Buck. He was careful not to smile when he told Buck what they must do.

* * *

"Buck, stop fidgeting, hombre!" Mano said between clenched teeth, as his friend yanked at his collar for the tenth time that evening while they waited in the anteroom of the governor's grand palace. Surges of adrenaline had sent them walking-rather than taking a cab-to the mansion from the hotel. Men of action both, they were ready for something, but they did not know what.

"I feel like a prize turkey in this getup. When are we gonna git somewhere?" Buck asked, his new ruffled black shirt adorned with a string tie. His black leather vest and boots were the only familiar items he wore.

"Shh, here comes Calderón, the governor's assistant. Just nod and be polite, por favor?" Mano hissed, straightening his own tie and adjusting the short black jacket borrowed from the hotel staff. A glance at a wall mirror reassured him. I look pretty good, Mano thought, all things considered. As his father had been, he was vain about his appearance and he knew it.

"Ah, Señor Montoya, the governor is so pleased that you and your, er, friend could join us this evening."

"We are delighted, Señor Calderón, delighted. May I present Buck Cannon of Arizona?" Mano gave a half bow and glared at Buck, who copied his friend a little late, but at least bowed. Calderón acknowledged Buck with a short bow of his own.

"I shall have a servant bring you something to drink," Calderón said, looking Mano straight in the eye. "Please wait here." He twirled around and walked off with mincing, precise steps.

"Gracias," Mano said as Calderón skipped off. In the far corner of the grand entrance hall, Mano spotted Arreola. He was wearing evening dress and did not seem out of place at all. How could he have wrangled an invitation? Mano wondered. Next to Arreola stood another man, very well dressed, a jeweled stickpin anchoring his cravat. At least Mano supposed it was a jewel. He was too far away to be sure. Just then a servant glided past with a tray of drinks. He cupped Mano's elbow, leaned in and whispered something in his ear as Mano picked up two glasses filled with wine. Once the servant had left, Mano passed a drink to Buck and guided him away on the pretext of showing him a fine painting in an alcove near the grand staircase.

Once they were in front of the painting, Calderón materialized in front of them. Buck saw to his surprise that the man had emerged from a door that, unless opened, blended with the mahogany paneled walls next to the alcove so as to be invisible. Mano encouraged his friend inside and the door was closed.

* * *

"Governor, los Señores Montoya y Cannon," Calderón announced.

Buck and Mano entered a large room with a massive desk in the middle, behind which Governor Ignacio Pesqueira sat. He rose to greet them and gestured for them to sit down as Calderón pushed leather chairs into place for them. Mano executed a short bow which Buck imitated a second later and they both sat, surveying the room as they did. Musta been a secret entrance we come through, Buck decided. Main door's prob'ly down the hall. Mebbe it's a secret exit in case the governor needs out quick, he concluded, glancing back to see that the door had disappeared into a wall of bookshelves. "Manolito, I am glad you are here," Pesqueira began. "I appreciated your note. My assistant, Calderón, and I have been questioning my staff all afternoon and I believe we are on the track of someone, but I need your help. Well, the help of you and your friend."

Mano looked at him without speaking; Buck's eyes narrowed but he, too, remained silent as the governor continued. "For almost two weeks now, I have been trying to find out who could have been behind, first of all, the daring raid after the ball from which you rescued my guests. And secondly, I have wondered who could have gained the confidence of someone in my office so that invitations could be arranged, including one for that man Valadez."

"Do you have any idea, sir?" Mano asked, curious.

"Yes. That man you saw, Señor Arreola, he was talking to the man I believe to be behind things. There have been too many coincidences, and I, for one, do not believe in coincidences." Buck shook his head in agreement as the governor continued. "The man's name is Chávez. He is a senior man in the trade legation and often asks for invitations for guests. Up until now, we have always trusted his judgment about those friends."

"Do you think he is trying to use Arreola to get rid of the jewels he arranged to have stolen from our friend?"

"Yes, or to get a trusted jeweler to transform them so that nobody would recognize them. I suspect this is what was going to happen after the ball, but you foiled their plans. If Chávez knew that you were here…"

"Yes, my uncle has suggested that I stay away. Circumstances prevented this. As my note mentioned, these jewels were stolen from a friend of Señor Cannon and myself."

"You should know that a man from your uncle Domingo was the first to approach me many days ago with the suggestion that something might be amiss. Your note has only confirmed this, because, I suppose, you know this man Arreola."

"I have had dealings with him, sir...in the past."

"When you were much younger, I take it?" The governor's eyes twinkled. "You know what good friends I was with your father. We both worried much about you, Manolito. You were a wild one."

Buck grinned but kept quiet. Mano shrugged. "I cannot deny that, sir. But no longer."

"Yes, and I think the wife you have chosen will make it most unnecessary for you to run wild again. Besides, one grows up, does one not? La señora is most beautiful."

"Sí," Mano smiled and shifted in his chair. "What can we do to help, sir?"

"I am going to create a small 'scene,' shall we say, that may cause our friends to play into our hands and into those of the policía, who are standing by." Buck and Mano both leaned forward as the governor continued speaking, explaining the details of his scheme. A smile broke out on Buck's face and Mano rolled his tongue inside his cheek, pensive at first...and then quite pleased. His eyes gleamed.

"Que buena idea!" Mano exclaimed at last. "That should work perfectly."

"Yeah, long as we all play our parts right," Buck added. "Let's give it a go, sir."

"Sí," Mano smiled, rising from his chair and, after a small bow, requesting leave: "Permiso, Governor?" A nod from Pesqueira dismissed them, but as Mano turned to go and Buck edged out of his chair, the governor's voice stopped them.

"Gentlemen, you must know that this is not without risk."

"Yessir, we do know that," Buck answered while Mano shook his head in agreement.

The governor paused, then, in a hesitant voice, added, "Manolito, your father often spoke of you." Mano tilted his head to one side.

"Oh?"

"Yes," the governor continued. "He enjoyed telling stories about you. One of his favorites concerned the time you and he apprehended El Caudillo in Nogales and put an end to his little revolution. And he always laughed when he described how you talked him out of the bull Montoya." Mano grinned at that memory. "A great joke, your father called it," the governor reflected with a sad smile. "The last time I saw him, he told me all about how you recovered the stallion Diablo from the gringo banditos. He was proud of you, Manolito...in his own way."

"Gracias. I did not give him much reason to be, señor."

"Nonsense. You are the son of your father, Manolo." I am that, Mano thought, bowing again to Governor Pesqueira and turning to leave. Calderón also bowed to the two men, then opened the concealed door, glancing left and right to be sure the coast was clear. He motioned for Buck and Mano to move back to the alcove near the staircase. They retained the glasses which they had carried into the governor's office and continued to sip their wine, acting as though they had been standing admiring the painting all this time. The conversation with the governor had not lasted ten minutes, but it seemed much longer to the two whose nerves were now on highest alert. Buck felt himself repressing the urge to pace, instead channeling all his energy into concentrated attention, waiting for a sign. Mano's eyes were cold and observant, his mouth a thin line.

A few minutes later, the governor appeared at the top of the staircase, with a shorter man beside him. Must have a set o' back stairs he took, Buck mused as the official and his guest swept down the grand stairway and stopped three steps from the bottom. Buck and Mano hung back while the dozen or so guests milling about the room below turned and drew closer as the governor spoke. "My friends, how good it is to see you all," he declared. "Now, I ask you all to raise your glasses to toast this evening's special guest, Señor Isak de Santiago, the renowned jeweler from Mexico City." Santiago, a corpulent, florid man, bowed, producing from his vest pocket a white handkerchief with which he mopped his forehead.

A polite round of applause echoed throughout the room after all had raised their glasses in a toast and taken a sip of wine. The governor and his guest descended, circulating among the crowd and making their way toward Chávez. Mano and Buck observed the scene from across the room, careful that their presence in the alcove should be concealed as much as possible by the undulating crowd. That's some talk they're havin', Buck thought. Shore hope that fella Chávez takes the guv'nor's bait.

He had no need to worry. "Mira." said Mano, nudging Buck in the ribs and indicating Chávez with a jerk of his chin. "Los pollitos están llorando!" he sang in a low voice, amused. Buck frowned. He had never understood that stupid song about chickens, but he saw Arreola now deep in conversation with Chávez and Santiago after the governor had moved to shake the hand of a man in a general's uniform.

"Time to git goin'?"

"Sí. Now for our part. Vamonos."

 _VKS & MJRod pay tribute to the actors, creator, and writers of "The High Chaparral" with our season 4 continuation. We do claim the creation of Carmen, although we borrowed her name from a David Dortort script proposal. Delgado and the entirety of Rancho Navarro are our creations as well._


	12. Chapter 12

**Rancho Navarro Chapter Twelve: Corralling the Pigeons**

Mano and Buck left the governor's mansion without fuss or fanfare, only stopping to retrieve their hats from the servant at the door before slipping outside. They concealed themselves on the opposite side of the street, finding a place that was not illumined by gaslights so that they might watch from the shadows. Soon, Arreola scuttled out, for all the world looking like a spider with a purpose. Only a moment later, before they could even move, Chávez emerged and hailed a cab.

"Mano, which one we gonna foller?"

"Who has the jewels do you think?"

"That Arreola hombre, he ain't had time to hand 'em over...yit."

"Then we follow him. He needs to retrieve them from their place of concealment and then he will be giving them to Chávez, do you not think?"

"I'd say it was a lead pipe cinch."

"Estoy de acuerdo. Let us follow the jewels, because until Arreola hands them over to Chávez we have no proof that he even has them, much less do we know the truth of the conspiracy."

"Yup. You a smart man, Mano."

* * *

They trailed Arreola, sticking to the other side of the street and staying well back. He did not go far but entered a small rowhouse beside a Chinese laundry nestled in the back streets near the Hotel Nacional. They crossed the street and ducked inside the laundry, observing the lane from behind dirty windows. Arreola exited the house with only a quick glance behind him. Once he had turned the corner, they stepped out of the laundry and hurried after him as the lone Chinaman behind the counter stared after them, his face inscrutable but his hand covering the piece of silver Mano left on the counter after raising a finger to his lips. Arreola led them to the back entrance of the hotel where they noticed he had a key for the service entrance.

"So that is how he has been getting in and out without the staff noticing," Mano whispered as they ran to the doorway.

Before the exterior door closed all the way, Mano stuck the toe of his boot in and held it ajar. They gave it a few seconds and then entered the corridor, aware of the storeroom where Arreola would meet Chávez. What took them by surprise was the knock on the outer door only moments after they had closed it. Ay yi yi, where to hide? "In here!" Mano grabbed Buck by the arm and pulled him into the large closet, where brooms, buckets and other cleaning equipment were stored. It was a tight squeeze for men and janitorial paraphernalia. They dared not breathe. They heard Arreola stride down the hallway and open the outer door. Another voice, which Mano assumed belonged to Chávez, sounded. Once both men had walked down the hall and gone into the storeroom, and Buck had heard that door shut, they let out their breath in a collective sigh and opened the closet door, spilling into the hallway.

"Mano, d'you think it's Chávez?" Buck whispered.

"I sincerely hope so, amigo, because our plan only works if it is."

They tiptoed closer and listened at the storeroom door. The Spanish was too quick for Buck, but Mano understood and translated to Buck in a whisper. "Chávez is breaking their agreement. He has a better connection even than Arreola to break up the jewels and they will fetch a much higher price for him. Quick, Buck, back into the closet. He is leaving."

Buck whipped into the closet but Mano did not follow, instead moving to the other side of the door as it banged open and Chávez strode out, holding a large leather satchel in his left hand, marching down the hall and through the outer door. No doubt the cases of jewelry are in that satchel, Mano assumed. But the governor said to let him go. Had Chávez looked back, he would have seen Mano, small silver pistol raised by his head, but Chávez did not look. And before he had time to think about leaving himself, Arreola glanced up in surprise to see a visitor standing in the open doorway.

"What is the meaning of this? Eh? Montoya, is it not?"

"Sí, Manolo de Montoya at your service." Mano bowed and held his hand to his chest, but his eyes never strayed from Arreola's face. He straightened up and took a few steps inside the room. "Your men stole valuable saddles that belonged to me. I was fortunate to retrieve these. However, I have heard that jewels were also taken and you should know that the entire police force in Hermosillo is looking for you and your, cómo se dice, gang."

Arreola said nothing, but his face reddened and his eyes spit fire.

"Your friends, Arreola, you need to tell me their names and where I may find them."

"No! Nunca! Why should I tell you?" he spluttered, until he saw the small pistola in Mano's hand which was now leveled at his midriff.

"I would advise compliance. After all, alive and in prison for some time is better than dead forever, don't you think?" Mano smiled but it never reached his eyes.

"Will there be a lighter sentence if I assist you?" Arreola said in a voice that, to Mano, seemed too loud.

"That is not for me to say. There will be no possibility of a lighter sentence if you do not assist me, however. Of that I am sure."

As Arreola slumped into a chair, Mano relaxed his aim. At this moment a noise in the open doorway behind him caught his attention, distracting him for a split second. But this proved long enough for Arreola to knock the gun from Mano's hand and catch it, training it upon its owner. A man, whom Mano recognized as the oily moustached hombre from the day before, rushed in, incapacitating Mano with a glancing blow to the knee and finishing the assault with a gun butt smashed on the back of the head. Mano fell with a crash, motionless for a few minutes until he blinked open his eyes to see Arreola standing over him. He noticed that the other man had holstered his gun and now stood to the side.

"Ay, ow," Mano groaned, levering himself to a sitting position and glaring at Arreola and thinking, this is not how this was supposed to go. My own gun aimed at me.

"Now we shall see who has the longer life, señor," Arreola snarled.

"Arreola, I must congratulate you. You are clever, amigo," Mano sighed.

"You should have thought of that before you came after me. This is not like you. The Manolito Montoya I knew rode with banditos and comancheros." Then gesturing to his captive, Arreola spoke to the other man. "This one, Estrada, he used to ride with Lobo, can you believe it? Look at him now."

"Riding with such people does not make one part of them," Mano said.

"No?"

"No." came a deep gringo voice from the doorway and both Arreola and Estrada looked up in alarm to see a black-clad hombre with a small revolver trained on them. Buck Cannon stood glaring, his arm firm and firearm cocked.

"Señor," Arreola said with a nervous laugh. "What we have here is a Mexican stand-off, no? You may shoot Estrada but my pistol is trained on Manolito. This will not end well unless we work something out."

"Who says I care 'bout this hombre or 'bout workin' anything out? He ain't nuthin to me."

"Well then, why are you here?"

"You took somethin' that belongs to me and I want it back."

"The jewels?"

"You got it, mister."

"The jewels they are gone, señor. But perhaps we can make future arrangements. I have many friends who work with me in Hermosillo. I have amigos in high places."

"You gonna haveta convince me o' that. Gimme a coupla names. Now," Buck's tone turned savage. Sweat poured from Estrada.

"I will if he will not, señor," Estrada blurted out. "One with whom we work is Chávez, the trade legatee. Another is…."

"Callate, perro!" Arreola barked. "All right, señor. I will give you some names."

"Give yore buddy the gun an' write 'em down on that hotel stationery behind you," Buck ordered. "An you better make it quick. I don't like to wait."

"Hombres, you do not really need me now, do you?" Mano asked from his prone position, rubbing the back of his head and stretching his neck as if to pop it. "Surely we can come to an…"

"Shut up," Buck said. "You right. We don't need you. You is mighty ex-pendable, way I see it."

Arreola grinned as he handed the paper to Buck, who looked it over and nodded. "You see, Manolito," Arreola said. "I always thought you might come to a bad end. Who knew I would be a witness."

"A witness to what?"

"Yore death, amigo," Buck snarled. "Go ahead," he said to Estrada. "Shoot 'im an' we'll carry the body out in a rug. Plenty of rugs in this hotel, ain't they?."

"Hombre, no," Mano said. "Surely we can..." but it was too late. Estrada pulled the trigger. Click. He pulled again. Click. He pulled once more. Click. Mano burst into laughter and rose, glancing at Buck and shaking his head. "You just could not resist, amigo, could you?" Buck chuckled but kept the gun trained on both men.

"No, I could not. Now if you two gennelmen will just put your hands on your heads. Gracias. Mano now, you get that fella's gun. Easy. There you go."

"Sí, mi patrón," Mano bowed in mock servility which made Buck crack a small smile.

"As fer you fellas," Buck continued. "We gonna jes walk down this hall here on outside. You got that, amigos? We gonna head to the po-lice station. You comin' S'nor Montoya?"

"Yes, Señor Cannon, I am." Mano said with a smile, still rubbing his aching head.

* * *

A trip to the police station proved unnecessary, however, for as they stepped out of the service entrance, two policemen greeted them with drawn pistols. A third officer held two pairs of handcuffs which he fastened on Arreola and Estrada, escorting them to a barred horse-drawn wagon which awaited. Now, how'd they know to be here? Buck wondered, scratching his head.

"The compliments of the governor," said the senior officer, a sergeant by way of his stripes. Buck handed him Arreola's written list of names and tipped his hat.

"Gracias," Mano said to the officer. He clapped a hand on the shoulder of his gran amigo. "Shall we go inside, Buck?"

"Mano, how did they?"

"I suspect we will find out. Hey, it took you long enough in there, hombre."

"Mano, them mops an' brooms was all in the way. I shut the door so quick I 'bout fell over 'em. Took me the longest time to work my way out without makin' any noise. B'sides, you weren't in no danger. No bullets in yore gun."

"Sí, as long as Estrada and Arreola used my own gun against me, I was fine. But what if they had instead chosen one of their own...and it was loaded, compadre?"

"Oh. Well, I still couldn'ta made no noise, now could I?"

"Ah, no. I guess not. But hombre, Estrada hit me on the head. That I did not see coming. I thought I would only have to allow Arreola to disarm me. I knew then he would not be able to resist talking...boasting of his many friends in high places. I did not expect Estrada at all. Even so, one would think the idiot would merely have sneaked up on me with his gun rather than hitting me, which he in no way had to do. Ay, ow, it still hurts, amigo."

"Yeah. At least it wuz jus' your head," Buck replied, prompting a sideways glance and smirk from his friend. "Mano, we better head on home soon an' let yore li'l Carmen kiss it better."

"No. I think it best if we leave out some of the details of our excursion when we see Carmenita, Buck. She thinks I am too reckless."

"Well she knows you purty good then, amigo. Anyway, least we got that confession outta Arreola an' we got Estrada, too. Other two hombres that robbed Charly don't seem like much to worry about though I'd like ta punch 'em both in the face, takin' advanage of Charly and all like they done."

"Sí," Mano nodded, thinking, but not saying, that perhaps Señorita Charly would prefer to punch them herself. Ay yi yi, his head hurt. "I need a drink, hombre, and I need to go to bed."

 _VKS & MJRod pay tribute to the actors, creator, and writers of "The High Chaparral" with our season 4 continuation. We do claim the creation of Carmen, although we borrowed her name from a David Dortort script proposal. Delgado and the entirety of Rancho Navarro are our creations as well._


	13. Chapter 13

**Rancho Navarro Chapter Thirteen: Loose Ends and New Beginnings**

The next morning, the governor himself came to the Hotel Nacional to thank Manolito and Buck and to explain the results of their heroics. Settled in brocade armchairs in a corner of the hotel dining room, they sipped coffee while Pesqueira, Calderón at his side, told them the whole story.

"So, the police was waitin' fer this Arre-ola fella to come out with us? How'd they know?"

"Señor Cannon, it was easy enough for them to follow you, but actually five police officers trailed you to the back of the hotel. A pair followed Chávez when he left, carrying the jewels. The others waited for you and Arreola to appear. But also detaining Estrada, now that was a coup. I congratulate you." Mano smiled a thin smile and rubbed the back of his head, which still ached.

"But how'd you git that Chávez hombre?"

"Señor Cannon, we waited until he met with Señor de Santiago, who had been briefed beforehand and who had met with Chávez at the mansion during the fête. He had pretended to be of questionable character out for, how do you say, easy pickings, and that suggestion stuck with Chávez. We captured him as he produced the stolen jewels for Santiago. He has, cómo se dice, sung like a bird. The authorities have discovered many other instances of dishonesty in Hermosillo, and these have been only confirmed by the list you secured from Arreola."

"Yeah, but why'd that Santiago… er I mean, why'd he hep you out?"

"Oh, he and I went to the university together and have been friends for years. He was visiting to see the Sangre del Este, the magnificent pigeon's blood ruby that was on display when you, Manolito, were last here. He attended the ball where the robbery occurred in which Manolito intervened. Afterward, I expressed my outrage and Santiago suggested he stay in Hermosillo to see if there was something he could do to assist me. Once I had the information from Don Domingo and then from Manolito, well, it was a simple matter to ask my friend to impersonate a criminal. He is a fine jeweler, by the way."

"A pigeon blood ruby?" Buck exclaimed. "Well 'at shore fits. We was very nearly the pigeons ourselves." The men laughed and drank the last of their coffee, before leave-taking all round. The governor assured them that the jewels would be delivered to their rightful owners in Guaymas. Once again as on his honeymoon, Mano was pleased to discover that his hotel bill had been paid in full by a grateful city, but he made sure to tip the manager Garza, the bellhop Pedrocito, and the stable manager Zuniga well for their services.

"We better get us on back to Rancho Navarro, Mano, or yore lil Carmen might be startin' on a divorce for abandonment an' my Charly might be havin' second thoughts.

"Second thoughts? About what, amigo?" Mano grinned. Buck just smiled.

* * *

"Don Manolo y Señor Cannon have ridden into the courtyard!" the elderly servant Ramón announced in his quavering voice to those in the salón before retreating again to the kitchen of the Hacienda Navarro. Carmen and Charly looked up from their game of blackjack, a large pile of matchsticks stacked near the older woman and a smaller pile in front of her opponent.

"Thank God!" Charly exclaimed while Carmen breathed a sigh of relief and crossed herself, mouthing a silent prayer of gratitude before straightening her hair and rising, smoothing her skirt as she started for the front door which creaked open as she neared. Charly jumped up from her chair and edged behind Carmen. In walked Mano and Buck, their hats in their hands, both grinning.

"Manolo!" Carmen cried as she saw him and ran toward him. "I was so worried about you!" she proclaimed as he lifted her in his arms and set her down again to take her face in his hands and give her a long kiss. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders in a tight embrace and the kiss lengthened.

"I am sorry, querida. This took longer than we anticipat…" She shut his mouth with another kiss, after which he leaned down to whisper in her ear. "Mi vida, can we not get rid of these people and retire, just the two of us?" They both chuckled. Carmen's face flushed and her breath quickened.

"We can certainly manage that," she whispered back. "But not until I have scolded you for worrying me so. Manolo, will you always be…?" This time he shut her mouth with a kiss and after this, they both smiled, his arms enfolding her and hers now tight around his waist.

"Te quiero, mi vida," he said. "I missed you, too. We will tell you all about it."

The other two in the room watched none of Mano and Carmen's reunion. Buck stood, eyes twinkling, a grin splitting his face, watching as Charly moved toward him, almost shy. She took his outstretched hand, leaning in to give him a kiss on the cheek which he transformed into a kiss on the lips, touching her chin with his free hand. She reciprocated.

"Oh, Buck."

"Charly, we got yore horses back. They's outside. Wagon wasn't worth savin,' but we got the team."

"Oh, Buck, I don't care 'bout all that. I'm jes glad yore here and safe."

"Well, I like that, little Charly. Hey," he said, stepping back to look at her but keeping her hand in his. "What you wearin'? That's real nice."

"Aw, thank you, Buck. This here's a ridin' outfit. Carmen gave me some things."

"Real purty, Charly. An' you are real purty, too," Buck grinned and kissed her again.

"Eh hem," the servant Ramón cleared his throat. No one noticed that he had crept into the room with slow, hesitant steps. He paused to grasp the back of an armchair and announced in his croaky, faltering voice, "Dinner will be served in one hour."

Four people smiled.

"Me an' Charly are gonna go outside an' check on the team," Buck said with a wink and a big smile.

"Ahora, sí," Mano grinned, looking at Buck and then down at Carmen, who still held him about the waist as if she never intended to let go. He brushed a coal black curl from her forehead and kissed her there, hugging her again and then, an arm around his wife, turning to watch as Buck, best of all friends, closer than a brother, escorted Charly out of the door and into the courtyard where, Mano knew, they would discuss matters of great importance.

 _VKS & MJRod pay tribute to the actors, creator, and writers of "The High Chaparral" with our season 4 continuation. We do claim the creation of Carmen, although we borrowed her name from a David Dortort script proposal. Delgado and the entirety of Rancho Navarro are our creations as well._


	14. Chapter 14

**Rancho Navarro Chapter Fourteen: Epilogue at the High Chaparral**

Manolito Montoya glanced up at the arch from which the sign suspended read "The High Chaparral," then over at his wife, Carmen, shaded under a parasol she held. He grinned as he guided the jostling carriage through the familiar wooden gates of his sister's home. On horseback alongside the rig rode a black suited man on the gelding called Rebel and a slight blonde figure in tan pants, atop a fine bay mare. Two Montoya vaqueros, the brothers Miguel and Jorge, also on horseback, trailed behind, cradling rifles in their arms, their eyes alert yet shining with the satisfaction that comes from a safe arrival at a journey's end. Mano pulled the buggy to the front of the ranch house and stopped the team, setting the brake and jumping out to assist his wife who closed the parasol and placed her hands on his shoulders as he lifted her out and set her down. She turned to see her sister-in-law, Victoria Montoya de Cannon, gliding out of the house, her dress of cornflower blue satin and chiffon swishing as she moved. The two women embraced, kissing each other on the cheek with warmth and affection.

"Juy juy! Hermanita mía!" Mano cried as Victoria rushed to him and he scooped her up in his arms and twirled her around while John Cannon, following behind, extended a hand to Carmen and gave her a reserved yet affectionate hug.

The eyes of all four turned as the man in black and the woman who had ridden beside him dismounted and grinned.

"Madre de Dios!" Victoria cried, "Señorita Charly?!" John's jaw dropped.

"Nope," Buck Cannon answered with a wink at his sister-in-law from whom he accepted a kiss on the cheek. "Miz Charlene Converse Cannon." Charly looked at the ground and then up at her new family, her smile tight but eyes twinkling.

"What's this? Congratulations!" John boomed, a grin splitting his face as he slapped his brother on the back and pumped Buck's hand while Victoria sashayed over to hug another new sister-in-law.

"Sam told us you might be seeing Charly," John started, "but we had no idea."

"Yup, Charly an' me, we got hitched in Cajeme, down there by Missy Carmen's ranch," Buck said, "Didn't seem no reason not to. Woulda been nice to do it up here, but we ain't gettin' any younger an' I didn't want give Charly the chance," he glanced at his bride, "to change her mind."

"Aw, I wasn't gonna do that, Buck. Spent the better part of two years wishin' I hadn't changed it before."

"Well, you must all now come inside," Victoria proclaimed while John signaled for men to see to the horses, rig, and vaqueros. "Oh John, two sisters-in-law. I am so happy." He grinned in response and patted her hand as he took her arm to lead her within the oak timbered doors of the ranch house.

* * *

"Please, all of you, sit down," Victoria implored as she skipped to the kitchen and called for the housekeeper Violeta to bring lemonade and glasses. Carmen removed her hat and placed it on a stucco half wall beside a short staircase. Mano placed a hand in the small of her back to guide her across a clay tiled floor toward a gold velvet sofa facing the fireplace. Carmen's eyes opened wide as she surveyed the stone hearth and wooden mantel with its rustic decor of mounted longhorns and Apache lance. She glanced above her at the heavy wrought iron chandelier suspended by chains and looked around her at the plain furnishings, nothing as fine or elegant as the sofas and tables at Rancho Montoya, yet tasteful and sturdy. She perched herself in the middle of the sofa while her husband sank down beside her at one end. Charly plopped down in a cowhide armchair near Buck, who did the same while John Cannon sat in a chair opposite. Victoria swept back into the room, followed by Violeta, and the two women served glasses of lemonade to all before the older servant retired to the kitchen and dinner preparations again.

"Gracias," Carmen said as Victoria handed her a glass of cool sweet liquid. They all raised their glasses in a toast to the newlyweds.

"Well, Buck, you've been gone almost two months, " John opened. "We didn't know what to think."

"I tellya John, shore has a lot happened that I didn't plan on," Buck answered, glancing at Charly who chimed in.

"Tha's fer sure, Mr. Cannon."

"John, please. We're family."

"And you will call me Victoria."

"Aw right, Miz Cannon, I mean, Victoria."

"So how'd you two get together?"

"Well, John," Buck answered, "it was like this. Me an' Mano figured Victoria here might jes like a fancy saddle Missy Carmen's foreman told us about...oh, Victoria, how did you like yore birthday present?"

"Oh, very much!"

"Well, you also gonna like what we got for you in the buggy outside. See, Mano an' me, we decided to see 'bout gettin'' you a fancy saddle an' that meant waitin' on a shipment from Hermosillo...an' turns out…." and Buck proceeded to explain the circumstances of Charly's misfortune, Fargo's death, and the reclamation of the freight. When he finished, John sat upright, his mouth a bit ajar and his eyes wide.

"Well now, that's quite a story," John drawled.

"Yeah, it wuz. An' Charly an' me, through it all, realized we wasn't gonna get a whole lot more chances in life. Figgered we'd better get hitched 'fore we lost each other agin."

"Yep, Mr. Cannon, I mean, John, we decided ta ante up an' kick in. Weren't no more future for me in freightin', leastways not from Nogales to Hermosillo an' south, cuz the railroad's comin' in a year or so."

"Or three, in Mexico," Mano added with a chuckle.

"Or three, but it were comin'," Charly said. "With Fargo gone, wasn't nothin' holdin' me. An' then Buck come along."

"So you were married in Cajeme?" Victoria asked.

"Yeah, we were. Got the padre Missy Carmen knows. Charly's Catholic an' I guess he figgered I musta been too, cuz he didn't kick up no squawk 'bout it," Buck explained. "Married us proper. License an' all. Mano an' Carmen stood up for us."

"I have found a few gold coins in the collection basket often helps the silence of priests," Mano added, wincing as Carmen elbowed him in the ribs while Victoria glared.

"Manolito, you know the Church is concerned with more than money!" Victoria snapped.

"Oh, of course I do, hermanita mía," Mano chuckled while the women stifled urges to also laugh.

"An' after the weddin', Mano an' Carmen, they bought us passage on the paddle wheel steamer. We rode it all the way down to Po...Por…"

"Puerto Vallarta, Buck," Mano sighed.

"Yeah, there. An' then all the way back up to San Francisco."

"San Francisco?!" Victoria cried. "Oh, I love San Francisco. John and I went there for a long overdue luna de miel two years ago."

"Well, what did you do?" John asked.

"Well, John, it were our honeymoon…"

"I mean, didya get off anywhere or did you stay on the boat?"

"Oh no, that paddle wheeler, she docked at all the ports and stayed in the harbors fer hours. She wuz in San Francisco two whole days. We got out an' looked aroun', didn't we, Charly?"

"We shore did, Buck. I bet we saw us ev'ry saloon in ever one of them ports."

"I jest bet we did, Charly. An' we won us some money, too. Charly did real good at the tables on the boat. I think the house was kinda ready to see us fin'ly get off at Guaymas agin."

"Charly, did you wear…?"

"Oh this?" Charly replied, gesturing to the man's tan trousers and plaid shirt she sported. "Oh no, Victoria. I dressed like a real lady. Carmen give me some o' her mother-in-law's dresses an' ridin' clothes from Rancho Navarro."

"They had been packed away for years," Carmen explained. "My mother-in-law would have been thrilled for her to have them. Our foreman, Señor Delgado, his wife, she helped me to alter them to fit Charly."

"An' I shore felt like a princess. Or a queen."

"Remember, they are yours to keep, Charly," Carmen assured her. "You may need a dress now and then."

"Thank you, thank you very much."

"So here we is, John," Buck announced.

"Yup, Buck. Uh, do you have any plans?"

"Plans. Well, uh, it seems to me Chaparral may be a little small fer all o' us here. Charly an' me, we's thinkin' mebbe on settlin' up at the C-Bar-M. I still be aroun' an' all, John. But we kin move the mares up there in summertime an' back down here in winter."

"I guess we'll be needin' a new line shack then," John observed.

"I'm thinking, Brother John, that maybe you kin spare a few men an' mebbe Charly an' me will just build ourselves somethin' up there in a year or two. We'll fix up the cabin first fer this winter, but eventu-lly we gonna want more room and you gonna want the cabin fer a line shack. If all this is aw right with my partner, S'nor Montoya here."

"You know it is, compadre," Mano affirmed, thinking, just do not ask me to contribute to the cost of building these structures.

"So tha's it for the short term, John. I'd, uh, I'd kinda like to take Wind up there with me to git it fixed up fer Charly for the present, if you kin spare him."

"Wind?"

"Yeah. I, uh, I got somethin' to talk to you 'bout Wind. Later, John," Buck said while John nodded, not understanding but curious and willing to wait.

"You two always have a place here, Buck," John said as Victoria nodded.

"Oh, indeed you do," then looking at her brother and sister-in-law, "You _all_ do!"

"It could become very crowded, hermanita," Mano chuckled, then added, "Carmen and I have decided that our home must now be Rancho Montoya. However we intend to be here at the High Chaparral many weeks each year, do we not Carmen?"

"Oh yes, my husband."

"Good, and I would like you both to see your room. Mano, we have changed some of the furnishings and bedding for you and it is yours whenever you are here, which we hope will be often," Victoria gushed while John grunted his agreement. "In fact, Blue has written," Victoria continued, "and we expect him to be here for Christmas. He has indicated that he may even be bringing a girl with him. Perhaps you two also will…"

"We shall see, hermanita," Mano interrupted.

"I think now I would like to rest a little, if I may," Carmen said.

"Of course. Let me show you. Buck, your room is also ready. I am afraid we did not expect you to return with a wife, but it should be comfortable for you both. Come with me. Dinner will be at six, as always."

"Six? What is this? You expect me to dine at six? I dine at ten!" Mano roared, imitating his late father. Charly and Carmen looked up in surprise but joined in the laughter that followed, assuming that it was an inside joke, which indeed it was. John downright guffawed. "Perdoname, ladies," Mano added. "You did not know Don Sebastian, the Lion of Sonora." I only wish you had, he thought, as he looked at his wife.

* * *

"How do you feel, my love?" Mano asked Carmen as she stretched across the bed in what was now their room at the High Chaparral.

"I am fine, beloved. Just tired. Perhaps a little unsettled. I cannot bear the idea of eating. That is to be expected."

"So I hear," he replied, leaning over to kiss her, a kiss that lengthened until they pulled away and looked at each other, he sitting beside her, brushing a curly tendril of raven hair from her forehead.

"Ah," she exclaimed. "This is so pleasant. Such beautiful linens. I love your sister."

"I love _you_ ," he replied, leaning over to kiss her again, then pulling back. "I will let you rest. Shall I return at, say, 5:30?"

"Oh, I may be up before then," she said. "When shall we tell them, Manolo?"

"I think we will know when the time is right," he smiled and a wave of warmth swept over them both as he rose and made for the door with a backwards glance.

"You do not have to leave, my love. The midwife says we may have relations until just before delivery. Of course by then you will not want me and I shall be as large as a cow."

"I shall always want you. This was not, as you know, an immaculate conception," he grinned. "Rest now, querida."

* * *

Mano saw Carmen shut her eyes and he edged out of their room, closing the door. He strode down the hall, noticing Buck and John in deep conversation within John's office. He heard the words "Wind" and "mother," as he paused at the open door, then decided not to interrupt. This was a conversation for the Cannon brothers only. Buck had already settled the matter with his wife. How did she put it at dinner at Rancho Navarro after Buck mentioned his suspicion that Wind was his son? Oh yes. Mano smiled as he recalled Charly pointing her fork at Buck, squinting and proclaiming, "Buck, people been hatin' the Irish long as I kin remember just fer bein' Irish. Ain't no matter where a man's from...all that matters is what a man is and what a man does." Very true words, Señora Cannon. Very true. How Wind will take this news, who knows? But that is not my problem.

A look into the living room showed Victoria talking with Charly. Mano grinned. They, too, will get along, but then Victoria loves everyone, does she not? Well, almost, he chuckled to himself, thinking of Carmen's brother. A feeling of gratitude overwhelmed him and he smiled. Life had not turned out as he expected. He had expected to be dead in an alley in Nogales, hanged or shot by the rurales, killed by the Apache, stabbed or shot by any number of banditos or comancheros or angry husbands...or at best perpetually drunk in a cantina. He had expected anything but to be a man with a wife, a man waiting to become the patrón of Rancho Montoya if not with eagerness, at least without angst or anger or fear. And a man, yes, with a child on the way. But of course, considering the passion and frequency with which he and Carmen made love, perhaps that last should not be unexpected.

No, things were not as Manolo Montoya had envisioned. He rolled his tongue along the inside of his cheek and decided to walk outside to the barns and corrals. Vamonos, Manolo. He would check on his mares and the stallion Diablo, say hello to the boys, and take a long, long look at the rancho which had been his salvation and had once been his home.

 _VKS & MJRod pay tribute to the actors, creator, and writers of "The High Chaparral" with our season 4 continuation. We do claim the creation of Carmen, although we borrowed her name from a David Dortort script proposal. Delgado and the entirety of Rancho Navarro are our creations as well._


End file.
